Harry Potter and the Coming Shadows
by LeonaWriter
Summary: You know to fear it. A HPYGO cross. The first few chapters will be all Domino, though. Now going into HP territory.
1. Last Day of Term

**Harry Potter and the Coming Shadows **

**Chapter one - Last Day of Term**

AN - This bit - including a few of the bits that follow it - have almost nothing at all to do with Harry Potter. Sorry. That comes in later. This is back story, 'cause I got annoyed when someone would start a fanfic and have such and such a relationsip different to canon but not saying how it got that way. This is set - as you'll guess soon enough - shortly after Battle City. Marik and Ishizu have given Yugi their Items, and at the end of Battle City the Ring was also in Yugi's possession. For my fic, Ryou doesn't know he's got the Eye.

I've made a few noteworthy changes to such small things as their ages. In canon, they're sixteen. To go with HP bit of story, they are two years younger - fourteen. Messes up timelines, but it works for this story.

(if you see anything that doesn't go with canon that I haven't explained away, please tell me. I'm going on first seven/ eight manga and the rest anime, more or less.)

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In a very ordinary classroom, a very unusual boy was sitting at his desk, staring into space. He was surrounded by his friends, including one who always preferred it if he didn't call him a friend. The boy smiled, before remembering something that worried him. Sighing, he folded his hands across his desk, and dropped his head onto them, not even bothering to pretend to look up at the whiteboard as he pondered his problem.

"Mutou-san, are you here to learn English or would you prefer to go home to sleep?"

Yugi Mutou, nearly fourteen, wearing the Millennium Puzzle and laden with the Shadow Games, look up sheepishly at his English teacher.

"Gomen nasai, sensei."

The teacher raised a brow. "Can you say that in the target language?"

Yugi blushed.

"I am sorry, teacher. I will try harder to concentrate."

The teacher gave him a smile before turning back to the board to explain another of the strange quirks of language she had chosen to teach. Though, to tell the truth, she couldn't blame some of them for their lack of heart today. It was the last day of term, after all.

Yugi Mutou turned his attention half-heartedly back to the lesson, even though his thoughts were still elsewhere. Anzu was good at English – her dream was, after all, to become a Broadway dancer on the stages of New York. Bakura-kun, however, didn't actually need to take the class. He was half English himself on his mother's side, and spoke the language with such fluency that, together with his odd appearance, he could easily pass for a gaijin.

Again, he sighed, only partially taking in which words meant which kanji. It was weeks since Battle City had finished, since he and his other self had won the God cards in the tournament. It was weeks since he'd rifled through the bag he kept the other Millennium Items in and found everything there except the Millennium Ring, the only other Item to contain an ancient (and in the Ring's case, dark and dangerous) spirit. He had thought about asking Bakura about it, but decided he didn't need to the next day when he had seen a rather obvious lump underneath his friend's T-shirt. The next time they had talked, Bakura had seemed embarrassed and guilty-looking enough that at least Yugi knew that it hadn't been the machinations of the Millennium Ring's Spirit.

The thing that was worrying Yugi was _why_ Bakura-kun had taken back the Ring, when surely he knew how dangerous it was? He was sure that if Bakura felt like he couldn't control the Spirit, then he would come to his friends for help – that was what friends were for, after all, right? – but recently he had noticed the white haired boy being absent minded in class. A very un-Bakura like thing.

Pair that with the fact that Bakura was looking strangely determined, as though he were concentrating on a problem only he could face most of the time, and the fact that usually, not long after getting that look, came a frown of pure annoyance.

//You do know we're going to have to ask him about it if only to make sure-//

/Yes, yes./ _Make sure he's not just Yami no Bakura pretending_, the treacherous part of his mind filled in for him where he had cut the Pharaoh sharing his soul off. He didn't like to think about the very fact that one of his best friends might actually be his worst enemy. The thought made him almost nauseous every time. So he tried to avoid it. He couldn't always.

Ryou Bakura was walking a little way behind his friends, on the way home from school. The familiar and, by now slightly uncomfortable presence of the Millennium Ring was there under his uniform, reminding him of the first time he had heard the Spirit's voice. That had been the day before he and his friends had been turned into game pieces for the Spirit's amusement.

He shook his head to clear himself of bad memories. Yugi had turned back to him with worry in his eyes, to which Bakura directed a heartfelt smile before catching up with them.

"Hey, Bakura?"

"Yes, Jonouchi-kun?"

"I was just wonderin'. You are OK, right? You been seeming kinda out of it lately."

"I'm all right, Jonouchi-kun," Bakura said with a smile. "Really."

But it was a different matter on the inside.

((You're going to have to do better at it than that. That was pathetic. I could sing explicit songs while pretending to be you and still be able to get them to believe it actually _was_ you.))

Needless to say, Bakura's skin tone now very nearly matched that of his hair.

"Daijoubu, ne, Bakura-kun?"

Bakura looked down at the pavement, and Yugi fell in step beside him.

"Actually, ano . . . No. It's nothing."

"Are you sure? If you've got trouble. . ."

"I'd come to you first, Yugi-kun," he assured his best friend. At least that was true. If there was any real trouble, he'd go straight to Yugi. Who would, in turn, go straight to the Pharaoh. His assurance made Yugi relax quite visibly, going back to his usual child like self.

"Awesome! Then we can go back to my house with the others and take a look at some of the new games Jii-chan has in stock." For a moment, Yugi seemed to think. "None of them are really all that much like Monster World or Duel Monsters. You could just watch if you wanted to."

A sigh of relief escaped Bakura before he could reign it in. "Thanks a lot, Yugi-kun."

((You fool!)) raged the Spirit as Bakura and Yugi caught back up to the rest of their friends, discussing the kind of games that had been in the last shipment. ((Now that Ra-be-damned Pharaoh knows for sure! You could have at least tried to keep him in the dark about this, but _oh no_! Yadonoushi just had to let it out!))

A few minutes' silence during which Yugi and the others were distracted by Jou and Honda's arguing and Bakura glared at an innocent tree that just happened to be in his line of vision.

(Are you quite done?)

Silence from the Spirit, but the overall impression of a glare carried through in more ways than just a lack of words.

(You know very well the only reason why I'm wearing the Ring right now, not letting you just lay about in Yugi's old gym bag.)

((I'm not answering!))

The feeling of _wh__oosh, closed_, reverberated in his mind. Bakura rubbed his temples slightly. The slamming of a soul room door in one's mind could certainly bring on a headache. Yugi glanced at him, expression a mix of confusion and sympathy, if not understanding.

"Mr. Mutou, we're here!"

The tinkle of a bell and the slight creak of the opened door brought Bakura back to the present.

"Jii-chan, we were going to look at the new games, remember? I think you said there were some old ones from Egypt!"

Bakura noticed the anxious looks that appeared on Jonouchi, Honda and Anzu's faces when Yugi said about the origins of their new shipment, and Mr. Mutou laughed.

"Ho, ho! Nothing like that unless you make it so, I'm sure. Just some commercialized children's' games, like Horses and Chariots."

Yugi laughed lightly at the relieved expressions on the other three more normal people. Bakura tried to hide it, but on the inside he, too, was relieved. To tell the truth, he'd had quite enough of being possessed, and didn't want there to be any more temptations than were absolutely necessary.

As they rifled through the games, choosing which ones to take upstairs and test, Bakura found that he had already decided that games that were enchanted or had magical enhancements before they found them were most definitely on the 'strong temptation' list.

"I think that's it. We've got enough here to last us hours! Jii-chan – we're going up to my room now!"

"All right, Yugi. Have fun!"

"Hai! We will!"

Yugi's room was a highly organized mess of clothes and games, including random cards from the booster packs he and the Pharaoh had built their combined deck from. Bakura could see the bag containing the Millennium Items and the God cards poking out from under his bed and was glad that his Yami's soul room door was most definitely shut.

Bakura's eyes drifted over to some of the other things in the room, some not as recognizable as others. A tamagotchi like digital pet with a blank screen sat on top of a piece of paper with two drawings on it – one was a cute little blob with 'hair' that looked remarkably like Yugi's, the other was bigger and had sharper features. They had names written next to them. The softer one was U2. The sharper one had a longer name and a smiling face doodled next to it – Yami U2. Close by was another thing that looked similar, but heart-shaped. On a shelf next to a model of a man-monster cross between the Summoned Skull and Superman that bore the legend Zombyra on its base sat a yo-yo, one that looked as though it had hit one too many hard surfaces. Scattered on the desk and shelves were various other nick-knacks and games.

Yugi moved the Duel Disk off his bed to sit down.

"So, Yugi, what we doin' first?" Jonouchi asked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, I thought we could try this one first," Yugi started, holding up one of the boxes. "'Cos it looks just like a simpler version of this one." He held up one of the bigger boxes.

"What did your Grandpa say this one was, Yugi?" Bakura pointed at one that looked like it had a board and figures you moved slightly like chess.

"That one's Horses and Chariots! Jii-chan said they've found pieces from that game in some of the digs he went on."

Anzu knelt down on the floor, opening the first box that Yugi had shown them and putting the others aside for a moment.

"So – how do we set this up?"

Bakura's thoughts started to wander sometimes, watching his friends arguing and laughing. His mind drifted and more than one time, he came back to the present to Yugi waving a hand in front of his face. He learned the strategies of the games as he watched, sometimes showing Honda and Anzu where he would have put a piece, but never actually being one of the players. He tried to ignore the bright glows from the Puzzle that signalled when the other Yugi would take over and play for a game or two sometimes, making suggestions and encouraging the others at various other intervals. A crimson blush threatened to come to his cheeks the first time that happened, reminding Bakura of the possible betrayal he'd dealt not just the Pharaoh but also the rest of his friends.

It got dark quickly. Blue fading to red sunset until it was finally the peaceful, natural darkness of night time and stars outside the window in the roof.

"Yugi! I hope you weren't planning on inviting your friends over for a sleepover, because it's getting late enough for that!"

Yugi seemed to freak out slightly at his mother's voice calling from downstairs.

"Ack! Sorry! We didn't notice it getting so late! Don't worry about the games – I'll clear them up later. Hey, Anzu – do you want me to walk you home?"

"I should be fine-"

"Nonsense! The great Jonouchi will make sure you get there just fine! Ne, Honda?"

"Wha- Sure!"

Honda had been caught in one of Jonouchi's headlocks. Anzu sighed at the antics of her friends, and conceded to be walked home by the two boys.

As they were about to go out of the door, Yugi's mother joined them. She took one look at Bakura and frowned. Bakura, Anzu and the others already had their coats on, but it was obvious that Bakura was going back to his apartment on his own.

"Bakura-kun, are you sure that you don't want one of us to go back with you? I'm sure Yugi wouldn't mind one bit."

"Ne, Kaa-san. I'm positive that Bakura-kun can take care of himself," Yugi said to his mother, defending his friend. "Ne, Bakura?"

Bakura started for a moment, startled slightly by the lack of honorific to his name. Yugi usually addressed him with a –kun at the end of his name, which told him that he was a friend. But what would Yugi mean by not using an honorific? Unless. . .

"Sou da, Yugi-kun."

Bakura smiled at both Yugi and his mother, then walked out of the door, waving goodbye. He unwittingly left a worried Yugi behind, not to mention the confusion in Yugi's mother's mind when she had the thought that she had heard only half of a larger conversation.

The walk home was uneventful. Bakura was used to the walk, so it only seemed to take five minutes rather than fifteen. He remembered all of the journey, making notes of small things like the street lamps turning themselves on, and how dark it was from one minute to the next. Small things that meant a world of difference – if just one thing was out of place the next time he blinked, he would know that his Yami had taken control. He hadn't been able to sense that presence in his mind since his other's soul room door had slammed on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware.

It was only when he'd reached the front door of his apartment that he realized just how aware his other had been. He'd reached down into one of his pockets for his keys, and instead found a wooden figure. Luckily, one that he recognized from while he was playing with Yugi, and not one with features that he didn't recognize with an all-too-well-made feel about it. He paused in his search for his keys just long enough to groan and bang his head lightly against the closed door.

The figure might not have someone's soul trapped inside it, but it still _wasn't supposed to be there_.

He found his keys. He let himself in. He put his coat on a hook, taking out the wooden figure first. He put the stolen game piece in his game room, which was still looking mostly as it had at the end of his last game of Monster World with his friends. That last time, he'd made sure that the Ring was still in his school bag before he'd even so much as set the table or made the pieces for Otogi and Shizuka. Yugi and his other had both played separate pieces. He then went into his kitchen and made himself a hot drink. Going back into the game room, he put the steaming mug down onto his desk, and sat himself down, crossing his arms as he did so.

_I'm going to have to __give it back first thing tomorrow_, Bakura thought to himself. _And even if I do that, he's going to know it was me – or rather, _not_ me. . ._

Bakura sighed. It was all rather confusing sometimes. Even up until the finals of Battle City, he'd been fine to believe that the Spirit of the Millennium Ring was nothing more than nightmares and voices, but after that time he'd woken up halfway through a duel with the Pharaoh, one of the God cards staring down at him and a slash to his arm bleeding through its bandages. And then. . .

Bakura gazed down at the piece without really seeing it. _Why?_ Was the question he had to ask. Why _did he step in for me like that? The only time I saw him__, and he saves me. Us_.

That was the question that Bakura wanted so desperately to ask, desperately enough to take back the Millennium Ring. The question that the Spirit seemed so desperate to avoid answering.

He shifted his gaze back to the problem at hand. The wooden, chariot-driver shaped problem.

(You stole.)

Condescending laughter emanated from the open soul room.

((I'm a thief, Yadonoushi. Stealing's what I do.))

(But-)

((Deal with it. If you're actually going to start speaking to me like this then I'm going to get bored if I can't do anything all day every day.)

(Couldn't you do something a little more _legal_?)

((Look, Yadonoushi,)) the Spirit snapped, ((You want me to do something else? Maybe you're missing all of the fun times you had before you even had a voice in your head. I was definitely having fun _then_.))

Bakura gulped slightly, remembering. The first time he'd heard the Spirit's voice in his head was when he had revealed to him the reason why all of his friends from his previous schools had gone into comas after playing Monster World with him.

(Couldn't we – couldn't I at least give it back?)

((Keh. And where would the fun in that be? You could. But if you do, you'll miss the Pharaoh's face one day when he meets you having woken up to seeing it staring right at him.))

Bakura started. All that just for a prank? He didn't think so. He also doubted that the Thief would be able to pass up another encounter with an off-guard Yugi / Pharaoh and not try to get the Puzzle.

((Baka. Yugi probably sleeps with the Puzzle on. I would. I know you keep the Ring close by. Besides, if I tried to take the Puzzle like that, Ou-sama-yo would try to inflict a Batsu game on me without the game before hand, not having had his coffee yet.)) Snickering.

Bakura was shocked. Of course, now he knew that he could trust the Spirit not to attack his friend in his sleep, but without knowing, the other Bakura had also given his lighter half another question.

_Why did he tell me instead of keeping me in the dark, making me think that my friend was in danger?_

The Spirit, oblivious to Bakura's thoughts at that time, went on.

((Call it give and take, Yadonoushi. You keep asking your questions all you want. I have more than one way of paying rent.)) Bakura's eyes widened at the term, which usually came before chaos. Unsettling laughter drifted once more into his part of his mind, making shivers run down his spine. ((Get some sleep, little landlord. You're going to need it.))

Sleep would not come easy.

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So - what did you think? Don't hesitate to tell me. I have an open mind. Next chapter coming soon.

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Japanese used -

Gomen nasai - Sorry/ please forgive me

Sensei - teacher

Yami - Dark. Yami no Bakura ,Dark Bakura.

Sou da - that's right (basically, anyway.)

-san is Mr/ Miss etc, -kun is the suffix used among peers or friends.

Daijoubu - It's all right

Ne - Right?


	2. All the men and women merely Players

**Harry Potter and the Coming Shadows**

**Chapter 2**

**All the world's a Board, the men and women merely Players**

**Disclaimer - since I couldn't be bothered last time (I think). I only own these characters in my vast imagination. In which I also own the world itself. Well, shares, anyway...**

**AN**: Ok. Some things I didn't get round to last time. For one, the normal Bakura will usually be called either Bakura or Bakura-kun (by Yugi, possibly others in Japan), Yadonoushi (means landlord, called this by Yami Bakura), and ahou (this also by Y.B). Yami Bakura will usually be called 'Yami' as in 'my Yami' or sometimes translated as 'my Darkness. He is also called Bakura. This is because (I think) that people just don't know what to call him, and 'the other/evil Bakura' gets to be a bit of a mouthful at times. (Thus the reason Yugi has to find some way of telling the two apart in his head, using the -san suffix for him.) He is also 'named' Thief.

Yami no Yugi will be known as Pharaoh, or the other Yugi. One of Yami Bakura's nick-names for him is 'ou-sama-yo', which is basically a sarcastic way of saying Pharaoh or king. He may also get called 'Yugi' by the unawares.

Something else. In this story, the spirits - that is to say, the Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber - can go outside of their host bodies in spirit form. They can affect their host, touch their host, but nothing else. They can't go corporeal (get bodies of their own) outside of possessing the one who their Item belongs to. Also need to say that Yami B would probably not want Ryou to get hurt/ abused, as this would weaken him just as much.

**Kelekiah**: Well, I don't know. Mostly it is going to be from either Ryou's or Yugi's points of view, but other characters will have their turns in the spotlight every so often.

**Sir Gawain of Camelot**: Sorry you felt that way about the random Japanese in the first chapter. I've remedied that - there isn't so much now. I'll only keep it in if it's good for the story, like the -kun and -san for Bakura. There might be other stuff, but not as much. Haha! 'Yami' actually was mentioned as a name for Pharaoh in the episode 'the Wrath of Rebecca; the Girl from America'. Only in silly dub of course, though. I think that's when, anyway. I'm only going to be using 'Yami' and 'Hikari' as ways of saying just _what_ they are. You'll find out about that more this chapter.

* * *

Yugi had a lot on his mind. He'd thought that he had problems a couple of days before, but that was nothing compared with now. He considered calling Jonouchi or Anzu, but either of them would just freak if they heard anyway, making things ten times worse for both him and Bakura. 

That night when he had invited his friends over to play games, one of the Horses and Chariots figures had gone missing. He hadn't mentioned it to Jii-chan, because he'd thought that it would turn up eventually. Sooner or later, it would either appear in one of his drawers, put away by accident, or someone would come around and tell him sheepishly that they had something that they thought was his. Neither had happened so far, and he was starting to it wasn't in the house at all. Which led to the thought – If it isn't in the house, then where is it?

Which, Yugi concluded sadly, had only one answer in his point of view.

Bakura had it.

The fact that neither he, Jonouchi, Honda or Anzu had seen Bakura since that day did not make things easier. He'd _asked_ Bakura-kun if there was anything wrong. So had Jonouchi-kun. He'd even said that he could talk freely if he felt the need to.

A sudden thought hit him. What if Bakura wasn't _able_ to talk? What if something big had happened, or Bakura was being possessed again? It might not have even been his friend who'd promised that he would talk if he had any troubles – it might have been the other Bakura! But if that was true, where was his friend, the real Bakura? Anything could have happened to him! He could be trapped in the Shadow Realm, or worse yet, trapped in a figurine.

Yugi held his head in his hands and moaned. So much for being a good friend. . .

He was so worried about his friend that he didn't notice the Puzzle's soft glow.

"Yugi."

Yugi almost let out a scream.

"Don't creep up on me like that!"

The Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle was now sitting on Yugi's bed, the serious look on his face marred by the amusement at his aibou's shock. A single brow rose in speculation.

"I had thought that you were used to the situation by now, aibou."

"I am," Yugi said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "But I've been-"

"Preoccupied?"

"Yeah." Yugi sighed and shook his head. "It's just – I'm not sure if I can-"

"Yugi."

The smaller boy fell silent at the command-like way the spirit said his name. He looked over at his other self, a complete and utter trust in his eyes that could only be understood when you could look into the eyes of the other half of your soul.

The Pharaoh sighed, and half floated, half stood up.

"I believe that no harm has come to Bakura. At least, none that I could be aware of."

"What do you mean?" Yugi asked, curious and confused. The spirit simply shrugged, a motion that looked fluid.

"The Puzzle's power – the first one that I ever found out about – was that it brings people together. How else could I have found Jonouchi when his old gang went after him so long ago?" Yugi opened his mouth to say something, but the spirit simply held up a hand. "If Ryou Bakura were in any mortal peril, we would know. I still don't know as much about the Puzzle's power than I'd like, but I do know that much."

"Thank you. I needed that. But I still feel that we should at least check up on him. There must be a reason why he hasn't contacted any of us at all."

* * *

Shadows. 

Most people see shadows as just another form of darkness, but that isn't true.

A lot of people like to think that there are a certain number of elements in the universe. Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Energy. Light and Dark. Yami and Hikari.

The problems start when you add darkness as a component in and of itself.

In a room with no windows, it's dark. Not because that's what it is, but because there is no light. Darkness is simply lack of light. Which is hard to achieve, even in the dankest of caves.

When there is light in the darkness, it immediately ceases to be Dark. It turns into something else. Shadows. If someone took a lighted candle into the room with no windows, there would be shadows flickering on all walls, and if a person was in the room then they would be able to see. Even the smallest of lights can change the darkest of places, of people.

But without light, shadows would cease to exist any more, cease to be, turn back into the darkness from which they were born. Shadows require light. They almost feed off of it.

Which makes shadows all the more deadly when they become real, not restricted to the confines of _not-light_ behind the sofa or the strange place at the bottom of your bag where the keys always inevitably seem to end up. When they can almost seem to gain a mind of their own, their own ideas about justice and punishment. Their own ideas about how to mete out that justice and punishment.

When there's a whole Realm of these Shadows, all wild and out of control. When there are only very few people who can control them, call upon them, go to them and still be untouchable. When there are so many, _so many_, many people so vulnerable to them. Their friendships, their loyalties. Their precious people and the things that they fought for. Fierce bravery, whether it be against a foe or for a friend. The lights in their hearts and souls. The things that dispelled the darkness.

"Help. . ."

The Shadows needed those lights. They fed off of the lights they were sent, making the souls shiver or scream as the cold pierced them to the core. As the Shadows made them burn out.

"I. . . can't. . ."

Ryou Bakura couldn't even finish a single sentence any more. He'd tried before, tried to tell the one that they all called 'the Evil Bakura' that one just didn't get 'accustomed' to the Shadow Realm. The Spirit had _seen, felt_ what it had done to Yugi in his duel against Pegasus on the island. The Spirit surely understood that no normal person could survive the Shadows. So why was he here now?

"Cope. . . Can't. . . Survive. . ."

Cold was going through him, into his very soul. The five evenly spaced pin-prick like wounds on his chest, the stab that had gone straight through his left hand. They ached. Old wounds, by now. But Lord, they hurt. His arm, though... he thought that it had started bleeding again. It certainly felt that way. Ironically, he was reminded of Battle City, so long and not so long ago. The only reason he still had the Ring on.

But there were differences. Last time, the wound on his arm had been fresh. It had bled freely the moment he was in control. Blood had come through the thin bandages that the hospital had put on him. There were no bandages this time; there was no need for them. The slash across his arm had healed up pretty nicely, only leaving a long white scar as reminder. He often saw Yugi or the others look at it twice, but his usual reaction was to shrug it off. Last time he had come to in the midst of a battle between his other self, the Spirit of the Ring, and the other Yugi, whom had been revealed not long before to have been a Pharaoh. Before having been sealed into the Puzzle, that is. The outcome of the match had teetered, the deciding point being whether or not the other Yugi would attack a friend, simply to win a duel. Not just that, but kill. Bakura shivered whenever he thought of _that_ in too much detail. This time it was simply him, him and the Shadows. Last time there had been three people in his head; himself, Ryou Bakura, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, who mostly used his name when he took over his body, and also a part of Marik Ishtar, then-possessor of the Millennium Rod. This time there was just him, him and his Yami side, his darkness.

There was one thing similar, though, Bakura managed to think as he fell unconscious. One constant. One pillar of solidarity. Even though he did it with a curse, his Yami, the one they all called evil, had been there for him. Picked him up, if roughly, from the violet-and-gray Shadow streaked ground and onto his shoulder.

When he came to, he was in his bed, in his apartment. Sunlight shone through open windows, ridding him of thoughts about shadows. The Millennium Ring was still about his neck, his deck-box in his hand as if he'd fallen asleep with it there.

* * *

Walking up the stairs to Bakura's apartment, Yugi felt that there was something. . . not wrong, exactly, but definitely different from the last time he'd come. It was more familiar. A sense of. . . lingering half-here half-there that, if given a scent, would have smelled of bonfires. A kind of burning. A kind of smoke that only he noticed. 

He knocked politely on Bakura's door, waited for a minute.

The door opened to reveal a Bakura still in his pyjamas, Ring hanging loose and free for all the world to see. Yugi's gaze was only caught on the gold Item momentarily, though, as it was something else that truly grabbed his attention.

"Bakura-kun! You look awful!"

Bakura smiled wanly. His skin had the same ghostly pallor to it as it had in the Battle City finals, his eyes looking sore for some reason – whether from lack of sleep or something else was uncertain. His deck was in the hand that wasn't holding the door open.

"Ah. You noticed. Tea for care, Yugi-kun?"

Yugi's eyes grew wide at the slightly slurred speech and mixing of words. He frowned, fighting the protective instinct that brought his other self out. That would only cause more trouble.

"Could I come in?"

"Of course you can."

Bakura stood aside to let him in and Yugi was almost surprised that the apartment wasn't completely demolished. In fact, it looked just as neat and tidy as he'd last seen it. A stark difference to the feeling of torn Shadows.

"You know, Bakura-kun, I think you're more in need of coffee than you are of tea."

". . . What?"

Yugi sighed. "Never mind. I'll do it." He'd been in Bakura's apartment enough times to know where the coffee was, especially after the one time Kaiba had ever graced them with his presence for a game.

When he went back into the living room, Bakura was sitting on the sofa, both hands on the Ring which was now on his knees. His deck had moved to the opposite side of the table from him, making Yugi think that his friend hadn't properly noticed that it was in his hand when he went to open the door. There was a strange look on his face as if he was concentrating on something, a tension in the air and a dim glow on the Ring that had nothing to do with the lighting.

"Coffee, Bakura-kun."

"Oh, thank you." Bakura took the mug of steaming coffee and set it down on the table. He then seemed to realize for the first time exactly how openly he had been wearing the Millennium Ring, as he turned slightly red. "I'm sorry. I should have asked. But. . . I felt that you wouldn't have wanted to give it back to me. I know how dangerous it is."

Yugi shook his head in amazement. "I think I understand. There've been times when I've been separated from the Puzzle-"

"I don't think you do understand, Yugi. It certainly is strange – difficult – not having it. But when I don't have it I feel sort of free, too. No, the real reason why was something altogether different."

"Different? Different how?"

A contrite frown passed across Bakura-kun's face, and without really knowing how, Yugi knew that his friend was conversing with the Spirit in the Ring. Something that was still very strange to see. Almost without warning, he took the Ring off of his knees and carefully put it onto the table next to his deck as if he was holding a scorpion. When he pushed the hair out of his face, Yugi saw the look of alarm that was there, felt the Pharaoh's anger, and behind that, his curiosity.

"I – I think that we should probably discuss this tomorrow, Yugi-kun," Bakura-kun said softly, just a hint of previous panic touching his voice. "Just to be safe. The terms 'fun' and 'games' don't always go too well together, you know."

"Aa. But. . ."

"Hai?"

"Nothing. Just – be careful."

Bakura cocked his head slightly to one side. "I will be." He hesitated for a moment. "You be careful too, Yugi-kun. We'll talk tomorrow."

As he walked back home, Yugi thought about what Bakura-kun had said. Something was niggling him. Something small. But, for a mind that was used to the intricacies of a certain card game as well as many others that relied on brilliant strategy, something was definitely off.

//What is it, aibou?//

This time, he wasn't surprised at the voice that came suddenly, seemingly out of thin air. He was still slightly embarrassed about that morning.

/Nothing, but – what Bakura-kun said last. Before we left. I don't know why, but it feels like he set a trap face down./

For a few minutes, there was silence in the boy's head.

//Word games, came the answer. Definitely not the sort of thing I'd have accused Bakura of in the past, but given the circumstances. . .//

/That was definitely Bakura-kun! It _wasn't_ the Ring! He'd just put it on the table!/

//Watching it all the time as if it was a live Man-Eater Bug,// the spirit said dryly.

/It was him. If it hadn't been it must've been the Ring all along 'cause the only time it glowed was when we walked in on him with coffee. And that wasn't the bright glow that usually happens when one of us switches, or if Shadow powers are used./

Yugi felt rather than saw or heard the Pharaoh sigh, slide to sitting against one of the many walls of his soul room. A muffled curse not meant to reach his aibou's ears.

/What is it? What's wrong?/

Momentary silence, then more muffled curses.

//He told us to be careful. He said that, and I quote, 'We'll talk tomorrow'. Does that shed any light on the matter for you?// When Yugi shook his head, he continued. We're not just going to be talking to Ryou Bakura tomorrow, aibou. 'We', I think, means all four of us at some point.

/But-!/

//Call it insanity if you will, but the boy has been learning the Shadows. We have to talk with him tomorrow about that, even if nothing else. That dim glow on the Ring didn't happen by itself.//

The spirit of the ancient Pharaoh pondered on what he had found out, what they had learned, long after his aibou had gone to sleep. The Thief was never a subject that he liked to dwell on, but all to often was one that he had to think about for some reason or other.

Truth to be told, in many ways the Spirit that resided in the soul room of the Millennium Ring was similar to him. That was one of the reasons he didn't like to think about him too much – that, and the fact that when he did, he got angry about what the Thief had done to both his friends and his own Other Self, the one the Thief called merely host, landlord, or 'Yadonoushi'.

The Pharaoh clenched his teeth at the derogative term. He called his _own_ Other Self partner, 'aibou'. They worked together as a team, as well as with the rest of their friends. Jonouchi-kun, Honda-kun, Anzu-chan. Kaiba. Otogi-san. Jonouchi-kun's sister, Shizuka. And, of course, Ryou Bakura, whom his aibou called friend and had welcomed into the group before Duel Monsters had evolved into the Shadows. They had all trusted him before, during and after the Monster World Shadow Game that had staked his friends' lives on the line as the playing pieces.

It had taken only until the first night – until night and shadows fell, surprise surprise – for the other Bakura to make his move again. The boy had been careless while handling the Ring, and had ended up almost having to make his own friends attack each other when his soul had been transferred to his favourite card. The Pharaoh still wondered about that – he guessed that the card was a lot like Bakura's situation. Hikari on one side, Yami on the other.

He had gotten the condensed version later on that there had been some strange goings on in Duelist Kingdom before, during and after the Duel against Pegasus. He also hadn't been able to ignore the strange way that the boy had acted when he solved the riddle of the Paradox brothers in the caves.

He had also been told what had happened during the time the Puzzle had been shattered in the middle of Yugi's game against Otogi. He supposed that he owed the other spirit something for that. Even if it had been for personal gain that he had been there, the Puzzle _was_ whole again, and in the right hands.

He got up and started pacing. Obviously the Ring's Spirit was still a threat. If he wasn't, then Bakura would not have warned them. Would likely have looked in better shape than he had – he wasn't accusing the Thief of doing anything deliberate, but wouldn't put it past him to be the cause. If he wasn't a threat still, then the alarmed, slightly panicked look on Bakura's face would have had to have been an elaborate ruse or prank, which he didn't think the real Bakura would do. Possessor of the Millennium Ring or not, Ryou Bakura was a polite, rather shy young boy who was fiercely loyal to his aibou and the rest of his friends. He wouldn't deliberately play a prank that low on them, much less knowingly and deliberately betray them.

Which, the Pharaoh thought decisively as he stopped pacing to think about his new problem, meant that they were going to have to speak about more than just Shadows tomorrow, and hope that it didn't come down to using them.

Sighing, he went out into the corridor, opened the door of his aibou's room just a crack, to make sure that he was fine. He smiled when he saw just how many toys and games had managed to survive both Duelist Kingdom and Battle City. True, some things had been replaced, but they were small things. A two player fighting game instead of a one player puzzle game. A small number of the colourful building blocks that had been there when he had first looked had been replaced by figurines of Duel Monsters. A Red-Eyes Black Dragon, a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Others.

Smiling a smile that not many people saw, he headed back into his own room, making sure that the door he opened was the one he used a place of relaxation rather than of testing whether or not he could escape the traps. The same kind of hunch that told him that his friends believed in him told him that he would need his rest for tomorrow.

* * *

Tomorrow came too early. He was woken up when his aibou's voice, always able to breach his soul room walls, shouted at him to wake up, told him quite unnecessarily that they were going to talk with Bakura-kun today and they didn't want to be late, did they? 

He saw through it all easily, of course. Gods in the Heavens with Osiris, _he_ was nervous. _Him_. But Yugi had told Jii-chan yesterday that they were going to go back to Bakura's today, and they both knew that it was something that had to be done. His aibou wasn't simple by any means; he had surely figured out by now what the word game had meant.

/What bothers me,/ Yugi said as he got ready/is why he never told us about this before./

The Pharaoh snorted lightly. //He told us himself that he knew that we wouldn't want him to have the thing back. That's probably why. And if you're looking for more word games, try this one on for size. We only ever asked if there was trouble. Up until, and hopefully including now, there hasn't been any.//

/We shouldn't have been so specific then,/ Yugi said, scowling. /You saw him. He might not be in true danger, but-/

/That's one of the things that we are going to bring up./ He had a strong feeling about what had brought on the ill look in Bakura, and he was _not_ pleased.

They walked out of the shop, calling 'see you later!' to Jii-chan, and made their way almost silently to Bakura's apartment. Across the road. Up the stairs. Along the corridor. Hand to the doorbell. Dark shades of purple doubtlessly flickered in his aibou's eyes – not the red of anger or complete control, but not-Yugi, all the same.

The door seemed to open of its own accord. One moment their hand was hovering above the button, the next they were looking into brown eyes and white hair.

"Ohaiyo, Yugi-kun! Pharaoh-san!"

"Wha-? How-?"

//Look down.//

Yugi dutifully looked down. There, bright against the pale cream of Bakura's jumper, was the Ring, one of its pointers aiming straight at the Puzzle.

"Oh. Heheh..."

"I'm awfully sorry if I startled you."

Yugi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "It's nothing – you're the second friend to do that to me in the same number of days."

"Really? I'd have thought that it would be hard for anyone to come up on you unnoticed, what with the Pharaoh and all."

"That was why, actually. He didn't mean to, though."

The Pharaoh couldn't whether to laugh or scowl at the joke. He settled for a smile as the two laughed in understanding on their way in to the living room, seating themselves opposite each other.

"You remember what we were talking about before, don't you?"

"Aa." Yugi fingered the chain that kept the Millennium Puzzle that served as the corridor between his and the Pharaoh's soul rooms around his neck. "You were going to tell us why you took-"

//Stole.//

"-the Millennium Ring back."

"Yes, I was, wasn't I? I . . . suppose it started not long after Battle City."

"What did?"

"The wondering. At first I was somewhat happy to be rid of it, because it had seemed every time I put it on meant danger for you – for my friends."

"What changed?" The Pharaoh in his soul room sat on the stone steps. It might even be that his aibou could give them both the answers they needed without having to switch at all. "You can tell me." He groaned – barely five minutes and already the so-called innocent one was using the big-purple-puppy-dog-eyes to get what he wanted. The boy was more manipulative sometimes than Anzu.

"I started to think," Ryou Bakura began quietly. "About those times. What I remembered and what I'd heard. What Honda-kun told me, and . . . Battle City."

The white haired boy ducked his head, fiddling nervously with the golden Item around his neck. Shadows played about his face, hair slightly muffling his voice. But the Pharaoh was certain that the Thief would never have said what _this_ Bakura was saying.

"I just want to know _why_. There's just so much I don't _understand_. You and the Pharaoh are in a partnership – you do just about everything together. You even remember your first battles with him, but I don't – I don't _want_ to. That was one of the worst times of my life. But maybe I might like to learn to understand why."

It would be an understatement to say that Yugi was struck dumb. The Pharaoh, however, was far from speechless. He stood up in an anger, glaring from his soul room.

//That's why he brought the Tomb Robber back? Because – because he wants to understand a psychopathic, soul stealing, masochistic murderer who just happens to hate me for no reason that I can fathom! Aibou, I may believe and agree with you when you say to trust Bakura – it's not his fault. But I think that the boy is a little addled in the head...//

/Mou hitori no boku! Bakura-kun is not addled in the head!/

Said boy was, at that point, looking at his friend with a decidedly nervous expression.

"You – you aren't mad at me, are you? I would fully understand it if you were. . ."

"Oh, no, Bakura-kun! I'm not mad. I really hope something comes out of this. You know. It's not that fun. Having to look over your shoulder all the time, I mean. Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" He added when the white-haired boy gave him a look reminiscent of a deer stuck in the headlights.

"But. . . don't you think it's just a little. . . dangerous? You of all people know what he's like."

A gleam of something sharp glittered in the quiet boy's face before it disappeared as if it had never been. Bakura sighed the sigh of one who knows too much before speaking in a low voice.

"I would prefer him to be dangerous for a while before I understand him and in a place where I can tell exactly what he has done rather than be unprepared the next time I touched the Ring by a simple accident."

Yugi smiled lopsidedly. "You've been listening to Anzu too much."

Bakura returned the smile, laughing almost bitterly. "I suppose I might have been. But actually, I got that from _him_."

"You _what?_"

A sharp look to make sure that it was still Yugi in control – he was. The Pharaoh wasn't that stupid to appear first in a room with the Ring's Spirit – and then a more Ryou-like laugh.

"He never actually said any of it, really. But I did get the vague idea that he had been getting _bored_, and since then usually try to steer clear of any thoughts of boredom on his part."

"How do you do that, then? As far as I know, there aren't that many things that interest him."

Bakura's face grew decidedly redder. "Well, I – that is, er. . ."

" 'Er' What?" Yugi asked, the Pharaoh pleased to see that his aibou had picked up a few tricks; mainly in the 'how to sound imposing and commanding and _make_ the other person answer you' area. "From the moment I was at all close to this building, Bakura-kun, I sensed Shadows. Big ones. And they all led straight here."

The Pharaoh found that his light's anger made him itch, a memento from the time when raw emotion; guilt and pain and anger just like the boy was feeling right now, would bring his spirit to the fore, leaving the younger Shadow mage watching from his soul room. Those days were admittedly less than a year gone, and he knew all too well that no matter his good intentions, if Yugi's emotions got the better of him, he would have no choice but to take over, if only just to calm him down and make sure that he didn't do anything stupid. They had been practicing direct Summons recently, and the Hikari was doing very well, sometimes even doing the odd thing without the Pharaoh's help, though that might have just been because Kuriboh could almost Summon themselves out of the Shadow Realm.

In short, although he truly did think that Ryou Bakura's apartment was a little too clean and tidy for his particular taste, he didn't think that he would like to see the mess it would be in after a Duel that didn't need Duel Disks.

"Nothing happened, Yugi-kun! You don't have to worry!"

"Don't have to worry? I always worry about my friends, Bakura-kun. And the fact that you've had no few ventures into the Shadows yourself only makes me worry more when I sense Shadows in your apartment!"

"That isn't exactly fair, Yugi, and you know it. The Pharaoh's been teaching you how to do things, so that you can survive in them better than you could the first time. You can't deny it – you told me yourself a number weeks ago."

"But- but that's nowhere near the same!"

"Only because you make it that way – _mortal_."

The Pharaoh didn't have to look at the other boy's eyes to know that they were amber, look at his face to know that it was sharper. The condescending, angry tone of his voice and the two simultaneous flashes of golden light from both of the items told him more than mere looks ever could. His eyes narrowed as the Thief stood with the grace of his kind only to stretch comfortably and then proceeded to allow Shadows to lick at his fingers, almost ignoring the Pharaoh as _he_ stood, ready for anything that the Thief might decide to throw at him.

"You know, _Pharaoh_, for one so eager to teach the joys of _friendship_, your host is ever so quick to point out its . . . ah . . . _weaknesses_."

"Yugi is not my _host_, Bakura," the Pharaoh growled. "Unlike you, I have a partnership-"

"When may I ask was the last time the two of you plucked up the courage to ask Yadonoushi what _he_ thought about this arrangement? Oh, I must have forgotten. This is. And what an absolutely splendid way you were going about it, too."

If anything, this made the Pharaoh's scowl deepen. Because for once, it almost seemed as if the Thief was telling the truth. This was the first time they had talked about the other Bakura, and it most certainly had not been going well.

A sharp movement caught his eye. The Shadows that had been around the Thief's fingers had gathered themselves into a ball of sorts which the other was tossing and catching with one hand.

"What is it exactly that you want, Bakura?"

The ball of Shadows disappeared, consumed by the natural shadows of the room which now flickered dangerously. The other Bakura's amber eyes glinted in time with the shadows.

"What I would _like_ would be to see your head severed from your body, your spirit sent to the Shadows and the Puzzle in my rightful possession. What I would _like_ would be for all of the other Items to be mine. As they rightfully should be. What I would _like_ would be to see my collection of dolls as they used to be. What I would _like_ would be for Yadonoushi to stop asking me so many _bloody_ questions which give me _bloody_ headaches!"

The Shadows around the embodied Spirit returned, though this time in the shape of a fancy knife, which turned out to be more substantial when the Shadows mostly evaporated from it as soon as the thief had a hold of it. A tell-tale red stain ran down both sides somehow without dulling the blade or the sheen.

"Why don't you just answer him then?"

Bakura snorted.

"You must be more insane than I am, Ou-Sama-yo. The brat has so many questions I think I'd die of old age before I answered them all."

The knife was thrown up into the air, flashing in the light of both the electric and magical lights. Flash, flash. It was caught by the hilt, blade reflecting the slightest hint of amber from the thief's eyes before it disappeared again with an almost invisible glint. It was caught again, this time by the blade tip, not a drop of blood showing. So the cycle continued, at first slow, then gradually faster.

"That's getting on my nerves, thief."

Instead of becoming irritated and angry, like he had half expected the thief to react to what he had just needed to say, or even ignoring him to carry on just to spite him, the white haired spirit did something the Pharaoh hadn't been expecting; he laughed. Admittedly not the deranged sort of laugh that he used when he thought that he was going to win, yet not entirely sane either. He stopped laughing with a dry chuckle.

"I win."

The Pharaoh swallowed, hard. It had been a game? Not of who would break their concentration on the knife first, but which of the two could hold off their irritation for longer. He had lost. But he hadn't even known that a game had been in progress.

"That was no true Game," the Pharaoh said out loud. "You didn't even treat it like one."

A cynical white eyebrow was raised, questioning.

"I'm ever so sorry – if it was a Shadow Game you were after, I'm sure I could find _some_ kind of game you could stake your souls on."

"That wasn't what I meant."

Without any warning, Bakura stopped playing with the knife, and walked calmly and with the grace of a big cat over to the Pharaoh. A slightest hint of chocolate brown amusement showed briefly on his face.

"Two reasons. One – as a self-proclaimed King of Games you should know that any good strategist waits until the opportune moment, the time when their enemy is already weak. Or if they are strong enough to overcome them anyway."

The King of Games understood this strategy all too well – many times a duel or other game had been won simply by waiting for the right card, for the right move to be made. It wasn't surprising that one of his greatest threats could use that kind of strategy as well.

"Reason number two." White hair whooshed suddenly away, the temporary owner turning his back on his enemy. "There is more than one way of paying rent to a landlord."

The Spirit of the Puzzle almost felt his eyes turn a bloody red in his anger. Landlord! The other Bakura was truly using such a term to describe the relationship between him and his other self? There really was no word rude enough to describe him.

"Don't look so shocked, ou-sama-yo. All you need to know is that I'm giving you the grace of not attacking now – no. I'll save that pleasure until you're at the point where _you_ are the one begging _me_ for help, and then I'll show you _true_ fear."

The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed, still blood-red in his anger. He felt his fingers twitch, almost willing to take the risk involved in commencing a real game that would surely seal the other's soul away for good. To think that someone would have the audacity to speak to _him_, the King of Games, like that! To think that he would ever stoop to asking, let alone _begging_ one of his sworn enemies help him! Ludicrous.

But to his surprise the Thief was true to his word. With just a couple more flashes the knife brought from the Shadows went back to where it had come from, and not a sign to say that it ever had been there. He sauntered back over to where he had been sitting before, and landed with a thump, hands going straight to his head as if he were on holiday, eyes closed as if he were in a safe place, a smirk on his mouth that started to fade at the same time his hair went less wild and more soft; arms coming down as though sleepwalking and eyes losing so much of their sharpness in that it couldn't have possibly been anything other than what the tell-tale golden glow marked it out to be. The Pharaoh had been dismissed.

Realizing at last what it would be like if his aibou's friend and the Thief's light saw him towering over him, the Pharaoh also retreated to his soul room.

* * *

Bakura came to sitting down. He had been sitting down before, but now it felt different. He looked around him. He listened, with both physical ears and those of the Shadows, the way the cause of the trouble had told him to. He was _sure_ that he had seen a familiar flash, but couldn't be completely certain. Still, it didn't hurt to make sure. 

"Yugi-kun? Are you alright?"

Yugi was standing up. He had been standing up before, as he had been angry. But now he was blinking, as if to get a bright light out of his eyes. Bakura noticed something else. Yugi was kind of off-centre, as if he had moved from one moment to the next without his muscles telling his mind. _The other Yugi_, Bakura surmised.

"I – I'm fine, Bakura-kun. I think."

"What's wrong? Nothing happened. Did it?"

"That's just it. I can't remember a single thing. Usually I do, whether we're working as one or if he takes over. This time – nothing."

"Let me guess," Bakura said wryly yet still politely, "you can't remember the slightest thing from one moment to the next?"

Comprehension dawned on Yugi's face.

"Oh. Sorry. I. . . suppose you kinda get this a lot. . ."

He couldn't help but notice the slight wince

"I did," Bakura said lightly. Yugi still hadn't asked and didn't know about how he was dealing with things at the moment, but the truth was that although there were still times when he'd black out one moment and wake up the next morning, there were still others when he was all too aware.

Bakura became aware that there was an uncomfortable silence between them and there was something that he wanted to ask.

"Yugi-kun. Are you all right?"

"I am. It's weird, but . . . I think I am." Suddenly Yugi's face lit up. "I got an apology," he said in explanation.

Bakura beamed for his friend. He truly did have a partnership with his other self. As for him . . . well. It wasn't like _his_ Darkness to actually apologise over _anything_. However...

"You know, Yugi-kun. I think I got one too."

Yugi's face looked so funny in that confused-serious look that Bakura felt like laughing. He barely held it in, satisfying himself with a soft smile instead.

"I saw the inside of my Soul Room."

Yugi opened his mouth as if to say something, then apparently thought better of it and didn't. Instead he nodded in the kind of understanding one can only receive when they have been through the same things, seen the same sights. A Soul Room was a very important, very personalised space that only the soul that had created it could change.

It had been two weeks previous when he had first seen the inside of his. At first he had thought that it had been another of the times when he would re-awaken to find himself in bed, but it was not the room he remembered from his apartment.

Bakura's soul room was neat and tidy. Things were shelved, and not one single thing was out of place that Bakura hadn't personally put out of place. The bed was a large four-poster with black and red drapes. The duvets on the bed were bright colours – blues and oranges. There were photographs on the walls, of him, together with his family and friends. Every time he was dumped in there he almost always stared longingly at one particular picture depicting himself with his little sister Amane and their mother and father, all together. It had been taken mere days before his tenth birthday. Days before he had received the Ring. Various Monster World relics had been there the first time he had come, and many had stayed. Postcards of Duel Monsters lay in a drawer in a desk where he liked to write to Amane, thinking that maybe she could see him writing his letters to her even in his soul room. Next to the postcards was a small pile of disused-looking Duel Monster cards, cards that he had either played and grown to like or seen himself play at some time or other.

One time he had ventured to the door. It was a simple looking door. Blue, with a normal looking handle. But for most people there wouldn't have been a door at all. Just wall. Bakura knew what was behind the door without having to open it – the soul corridor. The corridor between him and his Darkness, one who had proudly confessed to have robbed tombs and stolen souls.

One time he had ventured out of the door. He had seen the corridor. With his own eyes had he seen the old, dark door that led to the Thief's own soul room. Several sentences of hieroglyphs were written on it, not that he could understand them. The only thing he could understand about the door that wasn't his was the Horus eye that was just above his own eye level. Yugi had told him that there was one just like it on the Pharaoh's soul room door.

Turning his attention back to the present, he smiled, reassuring Yugi and talking for a little while before he walked the shorter boy home. A soul room was definitely one of the better things he had received from his Darkness.


	3. Blessed by the Trickster

**Blessed by the Trickster**

AN: Okaay! So here it is at last. Finally finished. One heck of a thing to write (I bet you're looking at the scrollbar now and thinking What Have I Got Myself Into?) but fun as well. Next chapter shouldn't be too long in the making, since I more or less know what's going to happen and there isn't much leeway for anything else. Oh, yeah, and **Warning**!!! AE arc **SPOILERS**!!! There aren't that many, but they are there. Plus, do ignore incorrect timelines. Timelines are not my friends. ;D

_"What wou__nd did ever heal but by degrees?" -__Othello, Act ii, Sc.3_

In Domino City, at some time of late night or early morning, life for most people was going by perfectly normally. Up in an office far above the roofs of many other buildings, fingers hit keys almost angrily, the owner's face lit up by the screen. Rarely did he look out the window down to the almost silent city sprawled out below with dots and splodges of light grey normally green spaces. More frequent were the looks toward a far door from which snores were coming. A rare – nearly extinct – smile flashed across his face. He then shook his head irritably and sniffed as he smelled an increasingly familiar – not that he would ever say where from – smell. He spared another glance in the direction of the snoring before going back to his work.

At the top floor of a somewhat smaller building a somewhat smaller person resided. Big eyes were shut tight against nightmares and bad memories, hands holding a golden Item the way one would usually see a little boy cling to a teddy bear. Barely suppressing a moan at the smell of the same scent, nightmares of losing his friends one by one made him roll over in his bed agitated. A soft golden glow lit up the room like a nightlight, and the sounds of fear were stilled. He went on to dream of happier things.

It was far less peaceful in another part of town. In a flat that looked as though it had seen better days a shouting match was taking place. The elder was using coarser language, a glass bottle in his hand. The younger watched the bottle with caution as he slung his insults, not as rude but certainly more true than that of the older man. Of a sudden, the boy lifted his nose to smell something that of the two of them only he could sense. Without another word and completely ignoring the other's shouts and warnings, he headed straight for his own room, took a deck of cards – clean only for the deck case that his friend had given him not long after it had been completed – and headed out of the door. It wouldn't do to be inside on a night like this if there was trouble.

The scent, so much like that of bonfires and smoke, gave no lasting impression to the boy in the house or the girl who lived just around the corner from the dance studio. The boy merely had a fleeting impression of gangs and the girl a vision of repeated rejection and stumbling on stage before returning to more peaceful sleep.

Somewhere, far, far away on the other side of the globe, a dark haired boy was being harshly told off for something he had no control over, all the while not really seeing the oversized man in front of him or the stick-thin woman who had preferred to stick her head over the garden fence than listen. Instead, he saw a long ago night filled with giants and flying motorcycles. The big man shouted at him for not paying attention, and the boy remembered the last time – only that morning – that he had mentioned his dreams.

On the streets of Domino City Japan walked a shadow. A shadow whose true face was feared by all those who saw it. A shadow who had made his home in the shadows, allowing them to cloak him until those who saw him said that he _was_ part shadow. A knife or dagger was often seen in his hands, disappearing as fast as it could be seen. Sometimes pale hands would come out from the shadows to make a point, quite often literally. What those who survived such an encounter always said showed whether any of the rest did or not, were the eyes. The amber eyes. Hard, cold and unforgiving. Angry, laughing and cruel. The strange grace that the owner had, that made any fights he got into seem more like one-sided dances on the streets at the dead of night with barely a sound to wake up the neighbours.

_Crash_.

"I say, that _hurt_!"

_Clang_.

Chocolate eyes looked out from the shadows down to the bucket that had inexplicably attached itself to his foot.

"I don't know _why_ I agreed to this," a decidedly British and out of place accent said to the world in general and the spirit in his head.

((I thought you didn't like it when I get bored. I was definitely bored.))

_That_ was why.

(Then why aren't _you_ doing this? You usually do.)

Odd – a hint of surprise. Usually his Darkness didn't let things leak so easily through their link.

(I'm not that naive, you know. I _have_ seen some of the things you take back with you. And how tired I am the next day. And how various – individuals – try to avoid me at school and in the streets. . . not to mention the rather large collection of knives you've built up.)

((Which you haven't thrown out, might I add-))

Bakura snorted. (What was that about you being bored? I most definitely wouldn't want to see how you would choose to get new ones.)

A dry chuckle of dark amusement that he was meant to hear drifted through to him.

((I always _did_ know you were smart, Yadonoushi,)) the spirit said almost affectionately.

The half-English boy snorted rather impolitely, and looked back at his foot with a contrite expression as if he was trying to solve one of the world's greatest conundrums.

_How am I going to get this thing off of my foot. . .?_

((Simple, Ahou.))

Of a sudden his arms weren't exactly his anymore. Neither were his legs. In fact, he was merely watching as the rest of his body did the Spirit's bidding, taking the bucket noiselessly off his foot. The moment the operation was complete his body was all his again. He stood stock still for a moment, frozen by the remembrance of how different he had looked, the grace in the movements, the way even his clothes had seemed to change around those places the spirit had taken control over and stayed the same in others. . .

((Would you quit gaping into space, baka? People are waiting, you know.))

Bakura shook himself. Silly, getting lost in thought in a dark alley like this. Though there was no one near as scary – or as dangerous – as his Darkness on the streets at any time of day or night, there was no point taking any risks, whether for his possible opponents or for his Darkness' pride.

(Sorry,) he muttered. He started moving again.

((Keh. Just make sure you don't make any new alliances with cleaning equipment. Oh, and your next turn is just . . . about . . . here.))

Bakura turned dutifully only to see an alleyway even darker than the one he had just vacated.

On a mental wavelength that he hoped that the Spirit couldn't hear, he grumbled to himself.

_Oh, kami-sama. I am truly going to regret this_.

Late next morning found Bakura walking happily but still slightly sleepily down streets that were far less dangerous and had much better decor. Finding himself on the street corner, he opened the door of the Kame Game Shop and walked in, the bell above the door jingling as he did so.

"Ah! Why, hello Bakura. Are you all right? You seem a little peaky."

"Oh, no, Mr. Mutou. Just tired, that's all."

Bakura paused for a moment to stare about him. Despite his friendship with Yugi and the others, it wasn't really all that often that he went through the shop.

"Was there anything you wanted that I could help you with?"

"Oh! Sorry, but I was wondering if Yugi was here. I tried to call him, but he seemed unable to pick up. . ."

"Oh, ho? That's what it was, was it? I think he's up in his room. I'd knock before entering, though, if I were you."

"Thank you," Bakura said, smiling softly. "I always do." Then he bowed, and went behind the counter to the house above the shop.

Almost the instant he reached the hallway the strong smell of bonfires hit him as if something big was burning right inside Yugi's room. Bakura scrunched up his nose against the smell, but was neither surprised nor fearful. Instead of panicking, he knocked.

Long moments went by and the door didn't open. Bakura began to fidget, thinking of how long it would take to take off his rucksack and open it when the door opened and Yugi's head stuck itself out into the hall.

"Bakura-kun! Sorry! I barely heard you knock!"

"Is it all right to-?"

At first Yugi was confused, but then comprehension dawned and he opened the door fully to let his friend in.

"So, uh. Anything the matter?" Yugi asked, falling onto his bed. "I thought you were- I mean... couldn't you have . . .?"

Bakura pointed to his rucksack.

"It's in there. I was thinking about risking it just before you came, actually. Not that I can control Shadows as well as you can, though."

Silence stretched between them. It had been common knowledge for quite some time now among their group of select friends that the two of them were learning the slow (and sometimes painful) art of controlling Shadows themselves. This had made Jonouchi, Honda and Anzu very worried about them both, but Yugi and Bakura had expressly told them that this was something that they felt they needed to do. It had been hard enough trying to convince them that Bakura didn't need his Item – the Ring – though. They'd finally backed down when Yugi pointed out how Shadow-driven Jonouchi's, Kaiba's and Mai's duels sometimes were.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you a favour."

"Anytime, Bakura-kun. You know that. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, well," Bakura said, his tone brightening. "I wanted to see if you'd have a look at this – as a duellist."

He handed Yugi a battered looking black plastic box, and in it was his old deck. The one that he'd put together during Battle City. Before it had been altered.

Yugi took the box and his eyebrows rose when he saw what it contained. A few times, he paused at a card for a few moments before moving on, or seemed like he recognized some of them, at times scowling. Putting the cards carefully back into the box, he smiled.

"It's a fairly good deck. Well balanced. It doesn't seem to know you very well, though, and that might not work in your favour. What you need is to practice with it, especially when the game's just for fun."

Bakura took his deck back out and started to shuffle through when –

"How did this get here? That's not supposed to..."

He took out the card, and in a further search, also found a number of others that he didn't recognize. D, E, A, H, and the Man-Eater Bug. He recognized all five of them all too easily, and frowned angrily. None of them exactly brought good memories. Turning back to Yugi, who was looking at him with a worried air, he kept his voice as calm as he could.

"I think I'm going to have to re-think my entire deck, Yugi-kun. It'd probably mean trouble if I don't."

Yugi nodded, understanding. "Just make sure that you don't throw out your friends as well as your enemies. That'd be a mistake."

Bakura nodded absently. He put the deck back into the box, minus the cards he had found. Remembering what Yugi had said about friends however, he opened it up again and replaced the Man-Eater Bug. He couldn't begin to describe how, but it seemed a little less generally malicious than the others, if that was possible.

"Y'know, Bakura-kun, I've been wondering. . . I know you'd been practicing, well – things, before – just like me. I was wondering if that had anything to do with what you were doing that day before. . ."

At first Bakura was just confused, then he slowly began to put the pieces together and finally understood.

"Oh! I think you mean-! Can I show you?" He pointed towards his rucksack, where the Millennium Ring was. "Only if you don't mind."

The look Yugi gave him was slightly worried, but his friend nodded anyway.

"We trust you, but . . ." Yugi's voice trailed off, showing true concern for his friend and distrust of the Ring.

"You needn't worry about that. He usually just leaves me alone if I'm trying anything for myself."

With that, he took the Ring out of his bag, hardly noticing the strange shiver caused from the touch of the power and another's mind against his, even if that mind was locked away at the moment. Brooding, if he had judged correctly. Concentrating on the Ring, on Shadows, and _find_, he thought of Yugi's Puzzle. The now familiar golden glow came from the Ring, and almost instantly one of the pointers lifted itself, quivering in the Puzzle's direction.

"There's not that much more I can do with it, though," he said, letting the pointer drop back down. He looked up to see Yugi confused.

"But I'm sure I – didn't I see you do that in Duelist Kingdom? You told us which tunnel to take to get back to the surface, didn't you?"

Bakura shook his head. "I was the one holding it back then, Yugi-kun, but I didn't make it show the way. Of course, I didn't realize until I'd already said, though."

"Oh. Well, I suppose that explains what happened later, then. . ."

Bakura noticed Yugi trail off and felt his palms get sticky with a sort of familiar apprehension as he put the Ring back into his bag. He didn't exactly know what to say to a comment like that. Later. A word that brought so much trouble whenever he couldn't remember exactly what had happened 'later'. He fiddled with the zips of his bag absently.

"It was just after me and Jonouchi'd duelled the Paradox brothers – you remember them?" Yugi said, starting up again as if noticing how ominous that 'later' had sounded in Bakura's ears. He was looking down, blond bangs hiding most of his face in shadow as he spoke. "We'd all been looking for that other door, and no one found it, but the other me found a way to trick the brothers and, well, some of us noticed you weren't acting like normal but it was actually ok that time 'cause you, uh, he helped us get outta there."

Yugi looked up to see that Bakura's face was slightly pink. What had happened was that Bakura had recognized and remembered the instance; in fact, that was the reason why he had been wearing the Ring by the time they reached Pegasus' castle. The Spirit had told him that he could help Bakura and his friends get away and out of the labyrinth of underground tunnels where the Paradox brothers had held them captive, but only if he put the Ring back on – which, of course, he had. His face had gone red, recognizing early on that once again it was Yugi's point of view on a possible betrayal . . . and then cleared up with a certain relief when he realized that nothing awful had happened – in fact, the opposite – that time.

"Oh. Um... Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yugi chirped easily. "Was that all?"

"Um, yes. I think so."

"Well, then! We can go to the arcade – Jonouchi-kun and Anzu-chan should be going in a bit, and Honda-kun's only not going because he has to babysit. . ." Yugi trailed off into talk of their friends as he got his jacket on and went downstairs with Bakura in tow, calling a warning to his grandpa that they were leaving, that he hoped Jii-chan didn't need him for a bit!

Bakura followed and watched as Yugi half-skipped along the sidewalk, almost running for half a block with the urgency to catch up with the rest of his friends. He was startled into a stop when a serious "So." broke the silence.

"Any reason why you came to me? I mean, you already know so much about Duel Monsters – you could've asked Jonouchi-kun, or . . . eh . . ."

_My guest_, Bakura thought, finishing Yugi's statement. Actually, that was a good question. He was just as much Jonouchi's friend as he was Yugi's, and he was sure that Mai would have been only too willing to help out a friend. And he hadn't gone to Yugi first. But, really, what was the point in not telling?

"Well, actually, Yugi-kun, it was _him_ who told me to go to you."

Bakura felt half-guilty when Yugi looked ready to trip at the simple statement.

"I know. You're wondering why he'd do that, aren't you?"

Yugi nodded, curiosity apparently overriding apprehension.

"It sounds weird," Bakura said thoughtfully, "but I did go to him first. He just snapped at me irritably, saying that Duel Monsters is a stupid card game and that I should go to you." Turning to Yugi, he shrugged. "He wasn't as polite as that, though."

His friend laughed nervously, probably finding it hard to remember a time when the other Bakura had ever been willingly polite.

---

It was nearly midnight, and the time of night that the Spirit of the Millennium Ring liked the most. In what was supposed to be the privacy of his (or rather, his host's) room, he was re-arranging his deck how he liked it. No matter what he'd said to his host, it had become strangely relaxing, a pastime that admittedly couldn't kill either him or the ones he wanted to kill, but all the same had a sort of reassuring _threat_. Sitting at the desk where his dear landlord usually wrote to his _dear_ late sister. Light from the nearly full moon was the only illumination necessary for someone who had spent most his existence in and out of shadows. Shadows which flickered around his hands and the cards he held. Which told him a little bit about each and every monster, magic and trap he held. How they all revered him, how they fought for him, how they would still fight with all the power they had. Blood-thirsty bugs to priests and magicians with their dark rites to spirits as earthbound as he was. He paused at a card, and the Shadows flickered.

(Not that one!)

_What?!_

(I said, not that one! I don't like it – really don't!)

"I don't exactly care what you like or dislike about my cards, Yadonoushi. They're _mine_. Build your own deck like you told the Pharaoh's brat you would if you're that disturbed." He had the freedom to speak aloud rather than mentally for once, as it was far enough into the night to have no worries about anyone wondering about his (or rather, Bakura's) sanity.

(That's the problem, though,) the true owner of the body said in a serious and strangely stubborn tone. (Your deck is my deck. If I suddenly had two decks, apparently only so that I could switch when I felt like it, they'd think that I was either far too arrogant for my own good or they'd start to think that maybe half the time it isn't even me who's playing.)

"Keh. And we should worry about that – why? If anyone other than those who're already far too involved in the Millennium Items for their own good figures out our little secret-"

(That _wouldn't_ work.)

Ra be damned, the kid had the guts to cross his arms and glare at him? And seriously think that it meant anything? Laughable. So, of course, the brat chose that moment to actually emerge from his soul room in his spirit form, since the body was already occupied. Still with his arms crossed, impudent glare still warningly across the innocent face.

The crossed arms and glare, to tell the truth, only served to make the boy look younger and more naive than he already was. A breeze blew from the window, but for an instant, the spirit's eyes were made sore by heat and sand and something else. The instant passed, and although he tried to latch onto the memory, his first idea of a memory other than raw emotion, it leaped out of his fingers like a startled ghost.

He glared back at his landlord, pleased to see that it still had good effect. The boy had backed up two paces before realizing what he was doing, and by that time the glare had been replaced by a scowl. Or at least something similar. Having won a point in the battle of intimidation, he turned on his best smirk.

"So. What would you propose? Since apparently you're more knowing in this than even me, one of the _best_ at the game."

"I had been thinking of using a variation on the deck I'd put together. Hopefully without the-the worse cards. Like that one."

"A variation? A compromise, hm?" The Spirit thought on the possibility. It wasn't impossible. It might even be beneficial. If the cards trusted his host as well, they might work twice as well in battle. If his host was able to continue after he wasn't if that ever occurred again... His mind was already thinking of ways to change and alter Ryou Bakura's original deck. It was definitely possible, actually. . .

"Thank you."

The voice was low, and the words only murmured, but he could hear not only the words but the feelings in stark relief to anything else that was going on around him. His hackles raised, his whole being became tense. He'd been caught off-guard.

He started to shuffle through the deck and side cards again, this time taking notice if the half-visible form beside him made a comment. Caught in the rhythm of the cards, he soon lost himself and hardly knew when he started to speak aloud.

"You – remind me of someone." He neither noticed nor saw the boy's head come up to look at him sharply. "Someone I think I once knew." He stopped shuffling the newly-formed deck and put it in the battered old plastic box his landlord had found from Ra alone knew where. "They're dead."

---

"Jonouchi-kun! Please! I just need an opponent. I know I'll probably lose, but I'd really like to duel you!"

"No, no, and a million times no! I am not duellin' against _that_."

"Come on, Jonouchi. I'm sure you've faced worse than that. Remember Weevil?"

Jonouchi shook his head, sending his floppy golden hair all over the place. Yugi had to stifle laughter at the motion, as it reminded him of Kaiba's nickname for his friend. Or rather, put-down.

"Even Weevil's icky bugs weren't as weird as your deck, Bakura. No offence, buddy."

"None taken." In fact, Bakura looked like he had just been delivered a compliment.

"Oh, come on, Jou! Get a grip." Honda swung a playful punch at his old friend. "It's not like you'll even be using Duel Disks!"

Almost the entirety of the gathered group sniggered. Jonouchi himself suddenly had a twitch.

"And besides," added Anzu when they had calmed down a bit, "It's not exactly as if _he's_ here, is it? A safe game, for once."

Yugi bit his lip, laughter immediately dead. They hadn't told the others about the return of the other Bakura yet. Neither were certain how to break it to them, and neither were certain that they wanted to just yet. Their friends all thought that the Ring was still safely in the bag in Yugi's room, with the Millennium Rod and Millennium Tauk. Quite obviously, not so. The two current Item holders shared a glance. Bakura smiled. He nodded.

"Quite safe, I can assure you that."

Ah, well. Even if he was useless at lying, he could get around it sometimes. After all, Bakura had assured him before going to Jonouchi that it was going to be his duel no matter who it was he duelled, and not to worry.

"Also, I couldn't exactly ask Yugi for a duel-" either the two spirits wouldn't have been able to resist, or it would have felt too one-sided for a beginner like Bakura "-and I truly did want to test myself against a True Duellist."

"A True Duelist, huh? Well. . . Arrrgh! That's not fair! Why'd you have to go and have alla them creepy things?"

"Maa, Jonouchi-kun. Like Honda-kun said, we'll not even use Duel Disks. You'll only see them as pictures on card, and you don't even have to look at them because I'll be telling you what all of their abilities are."

Jonouchi put a hand dramatically to his head.

"Gaaah! That's not fair! All right, who's got a duel mat?"

"You mean you don't?"

"Shaddup, Honda!"

"Boys! Couldn't you at least behave normally for once?"

The entirety of the four boys sitting on the grass of Domino Park looked at her. Honda was leaning with his back against a tree, Jonouchi beside him and within Honda's range of a fist if he thought his friend was being overly stupid. Bakura sat opposite the blond, legs crossed and back straight, hand frozen in a motion to get his deck. Yugi had been lying outstretched on his back, watching the clouds with half an eye. When Anzu had said her comment, he had rolled over, making sure that he didn't end up impaling himself on the Puzzle by shifting his weight onto his elbows.

"But Anzu-chan," he said, "this _is_ normal. Surely you knew that by now."

Anzu, who had been sitting hugging her knees, shook her head in mock dismay and shrugged.

"I should have known you'd say something like that. But I can always hope."

"Here, Jonouchi-kun, Bakura-kun." Yugi had reached into his bag and found the required duel mats, even if all they had to play on was unstable grass. His two friends thanked him, and he made himself comfortable to watch the duel.

It was a close match, yet at the same time rather one-sided to someone who could see things like Yugi did. Jonouchi was a strong duellist who played with the heart of the cards and relied on luck to win in any game. Bakura, however, was almost an unknown factor as he had never played before. It was soon revealed that his deck, however changed or not, still revolved strongly around the occult, and often the names and abilities alone were enough to send chills down Jonouchi's spine, causing endless teasing from Honda and Anzu.

Yugi stayed mostly quiet for the duration of the duel. The number of times he saw Bakura look at his hand silently and seriously before playing what would turn out to be a very strong card or combination warned him of a third participant in the duel, one he didn't want to annoy. But at least the duel was Bakura-kun's.

"I directly attack the player with the Earthbound Spirit, and end the game, Jonouchi-kun."

The voice was quiet, serious, and slightly surprised. Anzu let out a low whistle as the players gathered their cards back to their respective decks.

"Unfair advantage!" Jonouchi had shuffled his deck and it was back in its case.

"How was that an unfair match, Jonouchi? That was Bakura's first duel!"

"Creepy monsters! Freaky things!"

Anzu shook her head. "That's hardly what I'd call an advantage."

"You think?" asked Honda, a brow raised lazily. "Remember Death T? He fainted on that electric shock cart," he explained for Bakura, the only one of them who hadn't been there. "Full of fakes and it didn't fool any of the rest of us."

"That was different!" He looked as though he was about to explode, arms flailing in the air. "We coulda died back then!"

"Scaredy cat."

Turning his attention pointedly away from Honda and his teasing, Jonouchi faced Bakura with a question.

"Seriously, though. Yer good – ya beat me. Ev'ry time I thought I had it won, you played some weird move. How'd you get that good?"

Bakura smiled. "Easy, really. I watched you and Yugi. And Mai and Kaiba. I've been around duellists too long not to have picked up _something_."

"That," Jonouchi said, gesturing to the place where the duel mats still lay, "Was most definitely not just _something_."

Yugi shrugged nonchalantly from his – now vertical – seating position.

"I guess Bakura-kun's new deck just likes him, is all. Besides, that was only a game for the fun of it. True ability shows under pressure."

"That's right," Bakura said, nodding slightly in agreement, "I don't believe that I would have been able to win at all if I was duelling in even half of the kinds of situations that you have duelled through, Jonouchi-kun."

Yugi caught a look of express relief from his polite friend, though. A look that said _thanks for covering for me_.

//A good question to ask would be – why? Surely it's more dangerous if the Spirit of the Ring's presence is undetected? If it's a secret, we wouldn't be working as a team with the others.//

/If the others knew, they'd stay away from Bakura-kun as if he were the plague. _We_ know. If there's even a sign of trouble, then we'll tell. But not until either then or if we know for certain that he's safe./

The Pharaoh in his soul room snorted. //I doubt _that's_ ever going to happen, aibou. I think that he's made it quite clear to us all that he's made it his job _not_ to be safe. In fact, the opposite.//

/Then at least not dangerous./

The two watched in silence as Anzu reminisced about her role in the group mainly being a cheerleader, and the subsequent argument that followed when Jonouchi blithely commented that she wasn't much different to Honda, then. The few people taking walks in the park stared for a while at the fist fight, carrying on when none of the others in their group seemed to care. They saw Bakura fall carefully onto his back, care taken, assumedly, so as not to get the Ring in an uncomfortable position if he was on his front. His arms seemed to snake up and under his head, so as to better enjoy the sun. A move which, for some reason beyond Yugi's understanding, made the Pharaoh feel somewhat uncomfortable.

//No one here is entirely safe//, the Spirit said at last, slowly as if thinking very carefully about his words before he said them. //Jonouchi-kun and Honda-kun are street fighters, they were in gangs before Domino. The other Bakura is definitely dangerous. You, aibou, are also dangerous. A hint of amusement trickled through at the look of surprise evident on his partner's face. Not only because of me, either, might I add. You've my skill for the Shadows, and we are both learning new things, possibilities not possible without both of us.//

/What about Bakura-kun and Anzu-chan?/

//Anzu has made it perfectly clear that she can take care of herself. She has belief in that much, and her confidence in us – as a group – her friends, gives her that.// A pause. //Bakura, I am sure, is learning much the same things as you are.//

"Jonouchi! Honda! People are staring!"

/It's weird to think about that./

The scuffle between the two friends stopped long enough for them to look at her, look at the couple walking past, and shrug. Unfortunately for Yugi, that was all the distraction needed for him to feel a prod on the shoulder.

"'Scuse me," came a young voice. The kind of eager, enthusiastic voice Yugi didn't want to hear right now. "You're Yugi Mutou, aren't you?"

Yugi groaned inaudibly. Maybe if he ignored the kid, they'd stay away. As if it'd never happened. . . "Aren't you?" No such luck. He scowled at the chuckling leaking into his mind at his expense.

"Go bother Jonouchi-kun," he mumbled under his breath, more praying than telling the boy to leave him alone. He'd only wanted a nice, relaxing day at the park with his friends. Like he'd had sometimes before Duel Monsters. It might have been nice. Unluckily for him, he wasn't heard either way.

"Just I recognized you an' you're my _hero_, an' I know I can't ever be _half_ as good as you but I wanna try an' I got this photo an' maybe you want to sign it for me?" The boy's question came out as a single unit of sense strung together, a hopeful plea.

_Good grief_, Yugi thought to himself as he sat back up. _I can't go anywhere any more without someone dragging at my coat__tails for one reason or other_.

//At least it's not those hoards that think they're better than anyone and more than good enough for the God Cards,// his other commented wryly.

/Amen to that,/ Yugi sighed. Anzu had had to drag him into a museum that day, and Jou-kun and Honda-kun had been trampled. Bakura-kun had only escaped because he had been out of town, luckily for those who might have gone after him. It had seemed to take simply ages for them to realize that Yugi wasn't about to lose the God Cards to just anyone. But some still came after him, and he'd just as soon face off with Seto at his worst than even just ten of those self-crazed duellists.

"Here!"

The photo the boy held out to him was of about twelve young grade-schoolers, each holding up their decks to the camera. Yugi thought he recognized the view from out of the window as being a place he knew. All of the young faces were beaming, and it was clear that the photo hadn't been taken in hopes of being signed, but a memory of good times. He smiled, and felt the unseen emotion light up the face of his other self. He checked his pockets for a pen before realizing that he'd gone out without one, and was saved when Honda threw his over with a smile."You all look like you're having a real great time," Yugi said as he signed, watching the boy's eyes light up.

"Yeah! We got a Duel club an' everything! I know all about you, an', an' – you – you're Jonouchi! Wow! Could you sign too? An' what about -" Wide eyes hardly knew where to look. Yugi could easily read the look on the boy's face – not just one, but _three_ of the Battle City finalists right here! It was probably beyond the dreams of most Duellists, let alone grade-schoolers.

It took a great deal of self-control not to laugh out loud at the expression on Jou's face when he realized that someone had actually noticed him instead of him having to draw attention to himself. The blond finished writing his name with a flourish that almost made the kanji mean something completely different.

"There ya go! And you can tell all your friends that you've met Jonouchi Katsuya, world famous Duellist!" He'd started to hand it back before he realized that he'd forgotten something – or rather, someone. "Oi! Bakura-kun! Your turn."

What they didn't expect was for Bakura to roll over onto his side and mutter something unintelligible, sounding thoroughly irritable and completely asleep. The whole group stared at him for a full minute before the kid started to giggle nervously.

"Bak'a nii-san sure is tired!"

"Sure seems that way, huh?" Anzu commented dryly as Jou returned the photo with a shrug.

"Uh, yeah. Um, I gotta go. . . But don't worry, 'cos I'm going to tell all my friends that I met you guys and I'm going to show them this and – bye!"

As he ran off into the distance, Honda shook his head.

"Y'know, you have to learn to stop encouraging them like that. They'll only keep coming because you let them."

"But Honda-kun!" Yugi exclaimed, sounding horrified. "If I - I _couldn't_ just give them the cold shoulder all the time! That would be making me like – like Kaiba!"

"And that's _worse_ than hordes of kiddies anywhere. I don't think I could bear another Kaiba," Jonouchi butted in, contemplating the sleeping form of Bakura. "One's enough for anywhere. Any more and there'd be even more ego-clash than there already is."

That last comment and the protests in his head made Yugi want to say something in defence against the idea that any part of him (the spirit of a certain ancient Pharaoh included) was at all like Kaiba, but what he was seeing silenced all such thoughts, replacing them with – _I don't think he should be doing that. . ._

Jonouchi had started by prodding Bakura, like he had done to get Yugi's attention before. But when all he got from the sleeping boy were increasingly irritated mumblings and tossing and turning, he had started to shake the poor boy by the shoulder. Honda had given him a playful punch to Jonouchi's own shoulder, telling his friend to leave the other boy be. Anzu had made a failed comment that what he was doing wasn't exactly friendly – after all, if he was that tired to have fallen asleep like that, shouldn't they let him rest? - she told him.

"Oi! Bakura! Bakura no baka! Wake up!"

Yugi resisted the urge to hide until whatever happened passed. He highly doubted that Bakura-kun's other self would come out – it would mean giving away an advantage, showing his opponent his hand – but his friend was tired. And despite what the two had been telling the others, neither knew any details of what the other might or might not have been learning.

"Oiiaarrgh!"

Bakura – and Yugi knew it had to have been his friend – had somehow managed to get Jonouchi into an arm lock that, though not cruel, had undoubtedly been painful. It tore not just Yugi between outright laughter and concern for his friend when Bakura's only response was to say something that resembled 'cream puffs'.

"Hey! That's not fair! Ow!" Bakura had tried to roll over again, only to be hindered by his still unyielding grip on his friend's wrist. Still, he didn't let go.

"Maybe you shouldn't have started provoking him, then," Honda jibed dryly.

"I was only tryin' ta get him to wake up!" Jou protested. "An' now he's not even lettin' go!"

"Jonouchi-kun," Yugi said, trying to sound like he wasn't about to start laughing again, "Maybe he'd let go of you if you let go of him first."

"Wha-? Oh. . ."

Jonouchi's slowly dawning comprehension allowed him to see that yes, his hand was still fastened around his friend's shoulder. Releasing Ryou, he found that he was suddenly free. Ryou, realizing that he was not constricted any more, took the opportunity to roll over onto his other side, away from Jou.

_Tinkle._

_Uh, oh. . ._

For the most part, the sound was thought of as background noise, maybe someone's mobile phone going off somewhere nearby. But whatever it was or wasn't, it went ignored in Jou and Anzu's minds.

But by the look on Honda-kun's face, and the fact that Bakura was actually facing him, it wasn't going-

"Er, Yugi . . . I don't think you're gonna like this. . ."

-unnoticed.

"Gonna like what, Honda?"

"Yeah, you look just as freaked as Jonouchi did when he was duelling Bakura."

Honda was sitting stock still as if he'd only just noticed that he was looking at something dangerous.

"Uh. . . Gold. I'm seeing gold, Yugi."

Jonouchi snorted, unappreciative of the distress in his friend's voice. "Honda, we're always seeing gold. It comes with the job title 'friends with Yugi'. Puzzle is gold. Wherever Yugi goes, Puzzle goes. You do remember Puzzle, don't you?"

"Yeah," Honda said darkly, "But I also remember Ring."

"Well, yeah, there _is_ also the- _Wha?_ Not funny, Honda. You scared me for a moment then. The Millennium _Ring's_ still safely in Yugi's room, with all of the other Items. No offence to sleeping persons, but I'll be just happy knowing it's still there. It is still there, isn't it?"

Yugi flinched, and Honda caught his eye. "No, it isn't."

"Eh, what? I did hear you right, didn't I?"

There was a loud yawn, and grumbling coming from where Bakura was lying. Honda looked like he wanted to back away but for the tree he already had his back to. Jonouchi and Anzu looked on with varying amounts of worry and fear. The white haired boy stretched and sat up, completely oblivious to his friends' reactions.

"What – _yawn_ – what's going on? I was _tired_, Ya- Ya- _wha-?_ Er. . . hello! What's wrong?" Still oblivious to the reason of their stares, he touched his hair, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Then he looked down, and woke up very, very quickly, his face going pale. "Ah. . . oops." One of the Ring's pointers had somehow become tangled in the neckline of Bakura's jumper. The rest was a visible lump under the wool.

"Oops? Bakura, man! Is that the best you can do? You know how dangerous that thing is, and better than any of us."

"Ano. . . "

"Even if you did have your reasons, you should have told us, Bakura-kun. We're your friends. We're there for you."

Bakura looked gratefully at Anzu. "Thank you. I . . . I do have my reasons. But – do you mind awfully if I don't tell you yet? It's kind of personal."

Yugi looked at him, confused by the curiosity coming from his other. /You know something, don't you? The other him said something that day – the day you wouldn't let me listen in. Didn't he?/

There was a worried silence in his head while Anzu tried reassuring Bakura that he could tell them whatever he felt comfortable telling them. Jonouchi was still doing his version of a fish impersonation that had been going on since the truth had been let loose. Honda was staring at him with a hard, hurt expression. He hadn't missed the fact that Yugi had already known.

At long last, the Pharaoh let a spiritual sigh escape him. //He did. But all I can say for certain is that I _think_ that Bakura gained some answers, and good ones. I wouldn't presume to think I know what, though. Only that the questions annoyed the recipient.// A hint of amusement, if he wasn't mistaken, and Yugi rarely was. But he could only imagine what kind of reaction could have caused the humour. Meanwhile, Jonouchi had somehow been snapped out of his shock, and was now questioning Bakura's loyalty, whether or not they could still trust him. Yugi bit his lip. He could physically feel the angry narrowing of his Yami's eyes that said _we shouldn't be fighting_.

//The second, I think, needs to be said to the group,// the spirit added as the switch took place with a flash of the Puzzle. Yugi continued to watch from the comfort of his soul room.

"I hate to say this, Jonouchi, but I disagree with you."

Everyone stared at him.

"But Yuge," Jonouchi said hesitantly, "How d'you _know_?" He snorted. "I for one, do _not_ trust him."

The Pharaoh allowed himself the smallest of smirks. "You trust Bakura, don't you?"

"Well yeah, 'course I do!" Jonouchi said without having to think about it. "It's the other one I don't trust."

"I don't think that any of us trust him, Pharaoh," Honda said for all of them, "But you know something, don't you? You and Yugi. I bet Bakura told you to keep quiet or something, but we don't like being kept in the dark." Jonouchi and Anzu nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault." Bakura was tucking the Ring back underneath his jumper, out of the view of any passers-by, yet to his friends a more than obvious lump now that they know what to look for. His eyes were cast down, bangs covering his face in shadow. It reminded Yugi of a certain time on Duellist Kingdom, the difference being that he was in control this time, and was putting the Ring away rather than bringing it out. "I should have told you before. Not let you find out like this. I should have trusted you."

"Well, I think that I can understand why," Yami no Yugi quipped. "But I have a funny feeling that no one needs to be afraid."

"What does that mean? I had reason to be afraid the moment the Ring showed up again," Jonouchi protested.

"Well, yes," the other Yugi said teasingly, "But he _did_ mention something to me once. He was hardly polite"- Bakura turned an interesting shade of pink – "but I'll quote." At this Yugi took advantage of being in his soul room to laugh without restriction at the look on Bakura-kun's face. "He said that he won't attack "until you're at the point where you are the one begging me for help, and then I'll show you true fear". I believe he was trying to intimidate me."

"But if he said that," Bakura stated with trepidation, "doesn't that mean that there is something to worry about? That I did the wrong thing? That he's just using me again to get what he wants? He's planning something, isn't he?"

Everyone other than the Pharaoh seemed to agree, and the white haired boy started to finger at the Ring under his jumper, worried. Only Yugi, invisible to all, seemed to see past the threat just like his other had back when it had first been spoken. "The point," the other Yugi said with an ironic drawl behind a full-blown smirk reserved only for big-headed thieves, "is that he's a coward. He knows he can't beat me." He shrugged. "I'm just too good for him, and he knows it. And if he's waiting for me to let my guard down, then he'll have a very, very long time to wait."

For a few moments there was silence as the others took in the meaning of his words. Yugi came out in spirit form to feel the grass and the air out of his soul room, even if he wasn't very substantial to feel it. There were birds everywhere in the blue skies, joggers still out in the late morning. A slight breeze blew through the trees, but all in all it was pretty quiet. Peaceful, if they didn't have serious matters to be thinking of.

And then Bakura started to laugh. At first it was just a quiet thing, almost a giggle. Then it grew, a polite but loudly mirthful laugh that seemed to come for no reason at all.

"Er, Bakura? Mind sharing the joke?" Jonouchi asked, nonplussed. "I know it ain't anything _I_ can see."

"It – it's him!" Bakura exclaimed between breaths. "You – wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

"He – he's _sulking_."

"He's _what_?"

"You heard me. So what Pharaoh-san said has to be true."

Jonouchi shared a look with Honda, then sniggered.

"But," asked Anzu hesitantly, fighting back a smile herself, "how do you know that? I mean, I know Yugi and the Pharaoh are really close, but well, you know. . ."

"He slammed his door! He always slams his door when he's annoyed or sulking. I kept trying to ask him things, but nearly every time I got even close, he slammed his door on me," Bakura said, trying to explain through his laughter. Jonouchi and Honda's sniggers were soon full blown, Anzu's smile had won the fight and Yugi had switched back to where he belonged, his other having gone back into the puzzle, his job done. Everyone was back to normal, and there hadn't been any arguments or fallings out.

//I still think we should have told them _before_. . .//

Yugi huffed in annoyance. /There's not much we can do about it now, though. I mean, we can't exactly go back and change things, and even if we could, I wouldn't. Things worked out just fine. _You_ helped see to that. I guess we wouldn't have waited much longer to tell anyway, if you knew that./

The spirit in his mind shrugged. //I suppose. I do hope you aren't asking any of us to actually _trust_-//

/Oh, no! Of course not!/ He sent a mental image of himself shaking his head vigorously, as he couldn't do it otherwise without everyone thinking he was slightly crazed, excepting those who knew about his other self, of course. But even Jonouchi-kun could be confused sometimes, and he and Anzu-chan had been the first to know. /I'd never ask you to trust anyone even I don't trust./

//I'm reassured that you return my sentiments,// the spirit replied dryly. //Marik, I can understand. Him, I watched change for the better. Yami no Bakura, on the other hand, I would not trust even if he showed his very soul to me.// Yugi giggled slightly out loud, catching the unwanted attention of his best friend.

"Hey, Yuge? Somethin' ya wanna share?" Yugi shook his head, embarrassed slightly by the attention he was getting now. Jonouchi cocked his head slightly to one side. "Uh, y'know, somethin's been botherin' me – y'know, you two only said you were startin' ta learn . . . well, _stuff_, after the holidays finished. But if what you said is true, then-"

To the relief of the two aspiring Shadow Mages, loud beeping cut off the rest of Jonouchi's question. If he'd been able to finish, they'd have had to tell them that it had been the Spirit of the Ring who had been training Bakura and not the Pharaoh, which Yugi still wasn't pleased about, and the Pharaoh himself was less than thrilled.

Yugi checked the beeping coming from his jacket pocket and jumped up with a startled squeak. He hadn't realized they'd taken so long! He was meant to be back at the Kame game shop in only half and hour to help his Grandpa for the rest of the day. He couldn't believe that he'd almost forgotten.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Bingley_ bop!

"Ack!"

Bakura hurriedly stopped the watch alarm before it could get any further through the annoying tone. "Sorry. I've got to go. . ."

"You sure?" Anzu enquired. "You could always stay a bit longer if it's not urgent."

White hair shook sadly. "I'm afraid I can't. I need to go home. There are things I . . . things I need to do."

"Hey, sure thing, Bakura," Honda said with a wave of his hand. "Just tell us why you chose _that_ tone."

"Look, I di-" Bakura stopped midsentence, apparently reconsidering his words. "I don't know. It was probably just the first one in the list."

Yugi sighed, but purposefully ignored the slip.

"Hey, Bakura-kun? I could walk out with you if you want."

"Oh, no. You needn't bother. I'll be fine!"

And with that, he disappeared quickly into the distance.

"Huh. Wonder what's bothering him so much," Honda asked no one in particular.

"Other than the obvious? Nah. Wouldn't have a clue."

"Jonouchi! You could have been nicer, you know," Anzu told him sternly. "You _know_ the kind of things he's been through and I know you trusted the other Yugi before you even knew what he was like!"

"That was different! Yugi's Yugi! We know what the other Bakura's like and. . ."

Yugi walked away, certain that everything would work out just fine. Jonouchi was stubborn, proud and fiercely protective of all his friends. Of course Yugi understood that he wouldn't want to allow a threat in their midst if he could help it. Honda had his common sense. And of course he would always be able to rely on Anzu to keep them together no matter what. But for now, he had a shop to help run, and a Jii-chan to keep company. Worries could wait.

* * *

Ryou Bakura ran the route home. He knew it blindfold by now, daytime and night. He could recognize all of the streets, all of the people. He was used to the stares as he ran past, he'd always been stared at. If not for his strange looks, then for things he didn't even remember doing. He remembered all too many times in his previous schools when someone had fallen unconscious for no reason he had been able to understand at the time, and he had been shunned by his new friend's family. Sometimes he would run home just like he was now, to his flat, his apartment, his house. 

He was faster. He'd never run frequently to think that it would have any effect on him, and usually stopped panting halfway there or less, depending on how far away he was. But today he had been at the park, and as soon as he turned that corner there he would be home. _Home_. It still sounded strange. It had _become_ home. Yet he was hardly even panting. He supposed he would be if he took the stairs, but he still had too much adrenaline from his run, and wouldn't be able to stay still for long enough to wait for a lift and get all the way to the sixth floor.

_601, Bakura Ryou_.

Taking out the key, he unlocked the door. This time, there was nothing in any of his pockets other than what he himself had put in them before he went out. As he went in, he picked up the mail. Only the usual. The rent letter from his landlady, a bill, a letter saying that the bill had been paid for. Bakura smiled sadly at the last, remembering the shock he'd received after getting the first letter of that sort. It had almost made him want to tell them that he didn't need the help, but he had, and it was reassuring, in the same way the secret drawer in his desk was. Which nobody else knew about, and the Spirit didn't count. Dumping the post on the table after he'd put his slippers on, he put the kettle on to make some tea. Or coffee. He didn't really mind. Whatever could be made first, he supposed.

He took off his jumper. It was warmer inside, and he didn't need it. The moment it was off and resting against the back of his sofa the Ring fell free, glinting naturally gold in the warm light. A slight shiver went down his spine at the sight, even after all this time of getting used to it. The Millennium Puzzle was something that Yugi chose to wear. It was his treasure. Sometimes, Bakura envied him. Sometimes, the cord of the Millennium Ring felt more like the chain Yugi wore. Sometimes. He sighed and made tea. Only sometimes. The rest of the time he remembered his father, the person who had sent it. He thought of the strange connection he and the Spirit shared, just like Yugi and the Pharaoh – even if the Spirit didn't want to admit it sometimes. Rarely, like today, he thought about how he would see it, and know that it was undeniably _his_.

Sometimes he wondered whether the shivers came from knowing about the Ring's spirit or those rare occasions when he felt like _that_.

He finished his tea and put his jumper back into his room, tidy. He made sure that none of the things in his game room had been moved. He thought about making something to eat, but decided against it. This time, he'd been given warning enough. He idly wondered when-

((Stop dawdling, ahou.))

On impulse, his head jerked up in indignation. (I was not dawdling!)

((Oh?)) The Spirit asked, sarcasm dripping like honey from his ephemeral tongue, ((What else do you call putting things off?))

(I was thirsty,) he protested. (I needed to-)

((Fool. You can't hold up even the most simple lie. Not to your friends, and especially not to _me_. You knew what the alarm was for. Yet you took your merry time once you were here, didn't you?))

"But people can't just get used to the Shadow realm, Yami!" Bakura finally burst out, face flushed.

One truly peeved spirit emerged from his soul room, glaring. "You're whining, Yadonoushi. It annoys me."

Instantly and almost without thought, the host stopped thinking anything that might be considered 'whining'. Slowly but surely, the spirit had started to be aware of his landlord's deeper thoughts and feelings. Such valuable information was often put to good use, and Bakura wouldn't put it past him for this, so soon after humiliation, to be one of those times.

"Besides. I was there last time and you seemed perfectly fine."

"But that was because you were there!"

Bakura hugged his arms close to his body.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Silky, that voice. Under-toned with annoyance, anger, lingering vestiges of resentment at embarrassment, – fear? A voice fraught with danger.

"Nothing," he muttered. He rewarded when the other left the subject alone, instead opting for the safety and many perils of the Shadows. Purple mists formed about their feet as the living room disappeared.

The first thing he noticed as always was how cold it was. The second, how dark. In what was almost a last thought, he remembered his friends. He'd only seen them last only less than an hour ago. Would Yugi-kun find him if he went to far? Would they think to know where to look? Would he be able to find him? Even the _other_ Yugi. . .? He almost fainted. He almost heard, felt the Shadows gain on him, trying to steal just a bit more of his warmth, his light, his soul, his self.

A hand firmly grasped his shoulder.

"Stop doing that, idiot!"

The voice. . . he knew that voice. It belonged to the hand. He looked at the hand, followed it to the body. Tiny sparks of light travelled up the other's arm an around his body. In the places where the sparks had touched, Shadows seemed to pass right though. He glanced down at his shoulder. He could almost bring himself to be alarmed when he saw darkness bleeding into light, Shadows passing though his shoulder.

The hand jerked away as if burnt by fire.

But the damage – or rather, healing – was already done. He could see the spirit scowling, his arms crossed and entire being defiant. He saw the Shadows shy away, confused.

_I can. . . see?_

And if the Shadows weren't snapping at his heels. . .

_I'm . . . warm?! No. Not quite, but . . . just enough._

He took first one step forward, then another. Images in the back of his mind for every step.

The images made him remember. It wasn't a bad memory. But then again, maybe he could also call it not-good. It was special in that way that only remembrances of Amane could be special.

_He had been eight years old at the time. As his twin sister, Amane had been in the same class as him. In fact, the two had been near inseparable. It had been a fact that if Ryou could be found, then Amane would follow after like a duckling on a string, without a care that all that had made her the little sister were a few small minutes._

_They had been in an English class on one of their father's many trips to their mother's homeland. Their teacher had been a kind, smiling lady who had known their mother before Japan. He recall much more about her – the memory wasn't about his teacher._

_"So, everyone. I'm going to ask you all a question, and I want you to be as imaginative as you possibly can."_

_There was a lot of fidgeting and whispering. Ryou and Amane shared grins. Ryou was good at making things up._

Bakura thought he heard an angry shout.

_"I want you to think of one thing, just one mind you. A thing that you could do. No matter whether it's possible or not."_

_Everyone's hands went up.__ More than just a few people had both their hands up__ to grab the teacher's full attention, but most of them went down after the first girl said that she would talk to animals._

_Then, the teacher turned to Ryou and asked him, and near everyone went quiet_.

- loud, angry, something else?

_"Bakura-kun?"_

_Ryou grinned before answering. "I'd want to make the shadows dance."_

_"Well, that's . . . interesting. Could you tell me what your shadows would look like?"_

_Ryou frowned, confused. He understood. "Well, they'd look like shadows, wouldn't they?"_

_A few titters and giggles spread across the classroom. Shadows were shadows. They looked like shadows. It was a child's logic._

_"I'd make them dance 'cos Amane doesn't like the dark and maybe I'd make her not be afraid."_

_That wasn't all, but the teacher carried on, encouraging the others to think more like he did._

_Later, when everyone else was going home and they were waiting for their mother, Amane told him that her nii-san didn't have to do and say all that just for her._

_"I'm not afraid of the dark," Ryou said simply. "I want to protect you. I don't want you ever to be hurt. I'd make the shadows dance so you would never even be have to be afraid again, imouto hikari-chan."_

Bakura was half aware of something wet on his cheeks. But it couldn't be rain, because it wasn't raining. The shouting grew louder.

_The car – blue and big, he would always remember that – pulled up. The doors unlocked, one opened, and both the twins knew who it would be – mother._

The shouting became a roar in his ears as if he were about to faint. But the coldness wouldn't creep in. He was cold inside, so why wasn't the rest of him? He could almost think he could pick up words, but he didn't want to know what they meant.

"Snap out of it, baka!"

_"I'm always going to protect you, Amane hikari-chan! No matter what!"_

The Spirit was shouting at him, telling him that if he got himself consumed by Shadows it wouldn't be his fault. But the Spirit had both his hands on his shoulders, shaking him vigorously to punctuate anything he said.

Salty, bitter tears flooded Ryou Bakura's cheeks, making his face wet and his eyes red.

"I . . . I. . . hikari . . ."

"Keh. Whether I like it or not, ahou-"

"Hikari. . . my hikari-chan. . . "

_What?!_ No. . . Something's wasn't right here. The Spirit had taken all of his host's understanding of the modern age the moment his host had put on the Ring. He knew all the rudiments and ins and outs of not just Japanese, but also English as well, a useful asset apparently after some of his heists had almost gone pear-shaped. But no where in any of either of them would there be a reason for anyone to speak about themselves like that. So, with a frown that showed far too much of his worry, he heaved the boy upright and released the shadows, timing it so that the moment they were out of the Shadows and he was incorporeal again he would switch to save the body from the bruises a fall might give it.

(I. . . I couldn't. . .)

The sofa. Perfect. The Spirit of the Ring sat down heavily, half wondering why he was doing this at all. He was the Robber of the Tombs! He wanted to see the Pharaoh dead, and the only reason he needed this body was to get to that point. He needed a body to collect all of the other Millennium Items, not the host. No matter who he reminded him of.

Right?

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes he saw that familiar tomb. Walls lined with the stories of what were now called 'Ancient' Egypt's histories in inked pictures. In some were the gods, Seth and Ra and Anubis and Nephthys. Ammit featured in some of them, too. He liked those. They were all tales that he could remember easily, without any heed to the years that had passed since had last heard them. In others were his dreams; a 'Yugi' figure was being beaten in a game in one of those. It usually made him smile, knowing that after losing to the great and mighty Bakura, the only thing left is a penalty game, and for the Pharaoh he would like nothing more than to-

He had reached the door. Just as always, it was about a foot taller than he was. The Horus eye glared down at him as if in warning. One that he ignored as often as he could. He also ignored the hieroglyphs above and to the sides of it.

The door opened and he stalked out, hands in jeans pockets.

Ryou Bakura's soul room door, usually a blue reminiscient of the Nile in flood, had taken on vaguely purple hues in places. He scowled before making sure that his expression was sufficiently cold. Then he let himself in.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen the boy's soul room, though Bakura himself wasn't to know that. By now, he could recognize almost everything in there the moment he walked through the door.

More importantly, he could tell if anything had changed.

And there _was_ something different.

Other than the fact that his host was curled up and whimpering in the corner farthest away from the door, the usually light navy blue walls were covered in pictures, all featuring the same four people. A family.

It didn't matter. He had a job to do. He turned his attention back to Ryou Bakura curled up in the corner.

"Oi."

Brown eyes, wet and bright, stared up at him in an expression filled with fear and self-despite.

"I was supposed to protect her. I – I'd promised. . .!"

_Her? Who-? Ah_. He glanced back at the photos. Which now showed a scene from a classroom. Bakura, or at least a younger version of his landlord. The little chibi was almost disgustingly happy, sitting next to a girl who looked almost identical. Same pale hair, just a little longer; same brown eyes and pale skin.

"A-Amane. . ."

Now the pictures were just of this girl, this 'Amane', he supposed. The frames had turned black.

"I couldn't . . . couldn't do _anything_. I'd told her that I'd protect her and wouldn't let her get hurt but I failed her because I couldn't . . . couldn't _do_ anything."

As Bakura spoke, the pictures flashed and changed. The boy's desperation and the speed at which the words came out of his mouth made the changing of the scenes in the 'photos' seem almost like a film as he relived the memory.

The Spirit of the Ring barely recalled the place. His host hadn't stayed around for long enough. But from what he could gather from the flashes of memory, it had been in Japan. A blue car. A letter – one of the frames turned bright yellow and for a split second held the face of an older man with some of his host's features – a woman, the girl, looking older. The car drove away, big and blue. His host with people he assumed were friends of the family, confused and worrying and talking on the telephone. A giant piece of scrap metal, big – and blue.

"I wasn't even _there_."

A tiny little voice in the back of his mind, scared and fragile yet completely safe because no-one else would ever, ever hear it whispered two words."

_I was_.

"Urusai!" He didn't know whether the shout was aimed at the boy on the floor or himself.

"What do you think you could have done? You had no power." _He_ certainly hadn't been there. "You were a small, weak, foolish and naive mortal. You would have been able to do absolutely nothing." He saw the look on the boy's face and snorted. "Keh. I didn't come here with compassion." His eyes narrowed. "There is a choice of only two things to do when you're faced with something like this."

"And what would those be?" Bakura asked, voice hoarse from grief. His head bowed in helplessness he rarely showed. The thief laughed bitterly, and could palpably feel the shivers run down his hikari's spine at the sound.

"Either you live with what you've done or what you've seen," he said offhandedly, "or you die with it. You can grow stronger, or you can grow weaker. Others might look after you if you decide you can't take it, but in the end, the weak always die.

"It's your choice."

For a long time there was silence between the two. One by one, the pictures started to disappear, decluttering the walls. Soon, when the only pictures left were the ones that had always been there, the tension between them had degenerated into some kind of staring match. The Spirit watched his other half with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to lift his head. His white haired and shaking other self on the floor of the soul room seemed to be trying to out stare his carpet.

At long last his other self faced upward again and looked at him in the eyes. For a moment neither of them said anything as brown met brown. Neither blinked and neither looked away.

"I'm not like you," Bakura said with renewed determination. "But then again, I don't _want_ to be like you." He shook his head in frustration. "But I'm still not going to waste my life. I'm going to live."

Internally, the Spirit breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have any problems, then. Satisfied, he turned to go back to his own soul room, but before he could reach out a hand to the door, Bakura's voice called after him.

"If I hadn't – if I'd chosen the _other_ way, what would you have done?"

The Spirit stopped and glared viciously at the door, which was by now looking perfectly normal. It just had to be one of those days. Thursdays usually were.

"I would have done whatever I had to, Yadonoushi," he said in a dangerous voice. "Nothing less and nothing more."

* * *

Halfway across the world, thousands of birds were preening themselves for the yearly journey. Great greys and eagle owls for some of the longer distances, and scops for those who didn't live too far away. Each one walked or flew over to their handler, received a letter which was then attached to their foot, and flew off into the night. 

Three owls in particular, chosen with their speed and stamina for long distances in mind, headed over to one old wizard. Three letters were given to three owls, each with their own particular destination. As they set out in their natural environment of night and shadows, they passed a Barn owl carrying a very special letter that at first glance seemed to be no different from any of the others. Yet what neither the owl nor the beaming handler knew was that that particular recipient would need far more than just one owl for him to actually be able to _read_ his letter.

The other three would fly together for a while before one would have to separate.

* * *

PS: Don't worry - any reference to suicide (yes, that's what it was) is only Yami Bakura being Yami Bakura. Nothing to worry about. 


	4. Reaching Out

* * *

Reaching out

**AN**: Sorry about the wait, those of you who watch. I had trouble with my computer, and couldn't use it for a while. I hope this chapter more than makes up. Hmm... Something I've meant to mention before - can you guess which fanfics I've borrowed from? Almost all of the things that I write here are entirely from my own imagination, but sometimes something is so good I can't bear to leave it out. I'll give you one for free - all that clatter and clunk poor Bakura went through at the beginning of the previous chapter was inspired by Vathara's Roll the Bones. (Read it.) But look who we have here now . . . I haven't seen _you_ before in this story . . . Nyeheheh!

"I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me"  
_Tim of Athens, Act I, Sc.1_

Far away from any living civilization, nowhere near any prying eyes and definitely without nosey neighbours stood a ruin that might once have been a city. Somewhere in the midst of the rubble and dust was a closed trapdoor, a door that now lead both ways; from the light and into the darkness, but also from the darkness and into the light. A path clean of the dust and dirt of not only centuries but millennia lead down, into the labyrinthine passages that one family still called home.

Marik Ishtar rolled over in his sleep and clutched for something that wasn't there.

_He opened his eyes, and there he was again. On the Battle Ship. He could remember every detail perfectly. He was standing a few feet away from the Pharaoh and his friends. Up on the duelling platform the blond, Jonouchi, was struggling to stand up after the fake Ra had attacked the players. Rishid was down for the count._

_He wanted to warn them, cry out to them, tell them what would happen. But he couldn't. His mouth wouldn't work. He couldn't say anything. Just feel his head start to _hurt_ all over again. Then they all turned to stare at him and he still couldn't say anything, and all he wanted to do was scream but all he could do was close his eyes and-_

_His eyes opened of their own accord. He knew what he'd see – the stone of his home, the altar with a space empty and only the Tauk still looking back at him with one winking eye. Soon, even that would be gone. But for now, all he felt was the feel of something heavy in his hands, his sticky hands._

Clunk.

_Millennium magic turned into solid gold rolled away from him with a sickening glint that at the same time made him want to never set eyes on it again, not have to remember it, and also gave him the nauseating, appalling need to just pick it back up, he'd been without it for far too long. . . Ishizu and Rishid were staring at him, backing away, horrified, and he didn't want to look, didn't want them to see him. Couldn't let them. Magic glinted at him, inviting him to pick it back up. He took a step backwards, then turned to run from the scene, wrists to his eyes as he couldn't – wouldn't – see his hands, and he thought he'd go madder than he already was if he saw-_

_There was silence except for the wind. It howled, loud and clear, far above the city. A part of him would always welcome the sound of the wind, no matter where or when. There never was much wind underground. The sun was slowly coming into view as the Shadows dissipated. Clouds rolled and roiled beneath them. They were all there. Jonouchi and Anzu looked at him blankly with unseeing eyes, accusing him with their lack of expression. Mai was lying on the floor, vacantly staring into unoccupied space. Ryou Bakura knelt beside her, pale and shaking, the slash to his arm bleeding as profusely as it had the time he had been in control during his duel against the Pharaoh. Amber glared at him from behind the mild mannered boy, a stark contrast in expression. Revenge was written on his face._

_Worst of all was the Pharaoh himself. At the head of the army of memories was a glare filled with disgust and pity and hatred and disappointment. With red anger in his eyes, the short yet powerful duellist stepped forward. _You did this_, he seemed to say. _You made this happen

"Marik!"

_This time his mouth moved. He heard the sound as clearly as the wind._

"Marik!"

_This time, stronger. In fact, stronger still than even the wind. The Pharaoh's anger knew no bounds, and Marik wasn't going to run away._

"Marik! Wake up!"

He groaned. His head hurt, and he was at an odd angle on his bed. The covers must have been tossed about as he slept, so he was cold, too. What was more, someone was still calling him.

"Marik! Someone is on the phone for you, brother. They say that it is important."

"I-Ishizu?"

Ishizu sighed as she walked into his room.

"Yes, brother. Here, the phone. I'll make you something to drink."

* * *

"Yugi! Yugi-kun! Ohayo!"

"Ohayo, Bakura-kun! Hey, it's a good day today, isn't it? Jii-san let me have the day off so I was thinking about going and seeing Jonouchi-kun and then going to the arcade. You wanna come with?" When no answer came, Yugi recognized the tense and slightly worried silence from his friend for what it was. "Bakura-kun, are you all right? You aren't, are you? Did something go wrong? It has, hasn't it? I knew we shouldn't have let you train with him – I-"

-/Aibou!/-

/. . .eh. . .?/

-/Let him have a chance to speak, Aibou. Let him tell you what's wrong before you jump to conclusions./-

"Anou . . ."

"It was him, wasn't it?"

-/_Aibou!_/-

"Sorry."

"It's alright," Bakura assured him, still sounding worryingly preoccupied. "I understand you don't like it. But I – I have had trouble. Just. . . Not how you think, that's all."

"What kind of trouble, then? If you don't tell me I can't help you."

Bakura smiled at him before looking away with a profound sadness in his eyes.

"I . . . I remembered something. That's all. You . . . you don't have to worry. Really."

/Bakura-kun remembered something that's got him this worked up and he tells us _not_ to worry?/ Yugi snorted. /It's my job to worry about my friends when they need me./

-/I'm sure that's why he's talking to you/- the Pharaoh said dryly.

"Bakura-kun," Yugi said aloud, "Something _is_ wrong. If there wasn't anything, you wouldn't have come to me like that. If you don't want to tell me, then I understand. But you don't have to pretend. I can – _we_ can help. If you let us."

"Thank you."

For a few minutes they walked in silence, Yugi's feet leading them to where Jonouchi was. One with his eyes on the pavement, seemingly silent steps and hands in his jacket pockets. The other's gaze darting about every which way, boots clunking slightly against the pavement.

"Are you okay now?" Yugi asked, breaking the tension that had grown between them.

"I don't know."

"Are you going to be okay?"

For some reason the question caused Bakura to jump and look up sharply. "Yes. I will."

"Good." Yugi nodded sharply to himself, satisfied. If Bakura-kun said that he'd be okay, he would be.

But just then, Bakura hugged his arms about himself tightly as if he was cold in the heat of a Japanese summer. Yugi looked up to find his friend's eyes clouded over with a faraway look. "I've just got to figure out how, that's all."

"Well, one thing's for sure, whatever happens."

"Hm?"

"You've got us to help you be okay. No matter what, all of us will always be there for you. Doesn't matter if you don't want to talk about it – I can understand that. You can tell whoever you want whenever you're ready. But that's what friends are, right? People you can depend on and people who can depend on you." Yugi gave his friend a big grin, the puzzle glinting in the sunlight.

Bakura stopped walking, bringing Yugi to a halt slightly ahead of him. For the first time since they had met that day, the boy smiled properly, positively beaming. "Sorry. I suppose that I'd forgotten for a minute where I was." His smile faded though as he kept on walking. When he spoke next he was staring into the sky. "I don't think I feel ready to say just yet. It would be a shameful waste of a beautiful day to darken it with bad memories. Besides, even if I did say anything now, it would seem unreal."

"Like summoning Shadows into the daylight."

"Yes. Just like that, I suppose. Say, Yugi-kun? I was wondering what you were doing for the rest of today and tomorrow."

"Anou. . . Nothing really, I think," he said. "I think Jii-chan might've wanted me to mind the shop for him for a couple of hours here and there, but he wouldn't mind _too_ much if I couldn't."

"Ah! Good – just – I was thinking, maybe. . ."

"Maybe what?" Yugi asked, curiosity leading him to walk backwards so that he could see the look on Bakura's face.

"I was thinking about maybe having a sleepover at my apartment. For just you and me – so that we could show each other what we've been learning."

The shorter duellist stopped walking after nearly tripping himself up on an uneven paving stone, eyes wide and shining with excitement. "That'd be amazing, Bakura-kun! Your place? I'm sure Jii-chan wouldn't mind if you stayed the night over the shop. . ."

"Your grandfather isn't the only one living there, Yugi-kun. Your mother still doesn't know, remember?" Bakura pointed out, apparently holding back a laugh.

"Eh, oopsie?" Yugi rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed at being caught out forgetting an important detail like _that_. "All right! Your place it is! Eh?"

-/_Yugi_. Don't you think it just _slightly_ dangerous? The other Bakura will definitely be there./-

/And so will you. I never go anywhere without you./ The hikari gave a mental shrug. /Besides, at the park you said that there was nothing to be afraid of for now./

-/I didn't say that he wasn't dangerous still./-

/You said we all were! But if we both know what the other knows, then there're no advantages or disadvantages. No face-downs. Plus – it'll be fun!/

The Pharaoh sighed. -/Sometimes, aibou, you're _impossible_./-

Yugi laughed out loud, ignoring some of the strange looks that came his way. /Only as much as you are, aibou – I learned from the best, after all./

"So what did he say?" came the polite question.

"Heheh. . . He said fine. He's going if I'm going, and I think it's going to be fun!"

* * *

As Bakura went into the kitchen, Yugi hovered in the living room, wondering over all the strange and extraordinary things displayed around the apartment. Rarely before had he had the chance to just _look_ – usually, they went straight through to the game room. Postcards lined the walls between strange masks and the odd replica relic from Egypt. A treated papyrus with a handwritten translation in the margins. The one thing that truly caught his attention, however, was the single photograph at what appeared to Yugi to be Bakura's eye level opposite to the door, so that it was the first thing you saw the moment you walked in the room.

"Ah, Yugi-kun! Your – is something the matter?"

"N-No, Bakura-kun . . . You just startled me. That's all. I didn't hear you come in."

"Oh! That! Sorry – it's a sort of habit by now. I can't exactly turn it off."

"Hn. Don't worry about it."

Putting the two mugs down on the table, Bakura came closer to see what had distracted his friend.

"_Oh. ._ "

"I . . . think that's you, but – are those-?"

"Yes," Bakura said sadly. "There – that was my mother." Was? "That – that was Amane. My imouto-chan. And this here is my father." Yugi noted the use of present tense with a breath of relief.

"Amane-chan sure looks pretty here."

"My Amane-chan _always_ looked pretty," Bakura said with a rare smile in his voice. "This photo was actually taken in Egypt by the person in charge of the dig father was on." For a moment, his voice seemed to crack, and Yugi's worry returned. "Father had to stay for a couple of weeks or so longer than we could, though," he said, trailing off.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. It's just the first time I've ever seen them."

"It's nothing – really. I wouldn't have put it up there if I hadn't wanted to see it, would I? But I, uh, oh! I just realized! Our tea must be getting awfully cold! Here – it's not as good as real English tea, but it'll do for me until I can get some, I suppose. . ."

As Bakura carried on in that strain, Yugi smiled. Yes, that was definitely Bakura-kun. Be serious when you need to, then turn back into the klutz you're not. It was an idea that Yugi thought worked pretty well. Not that he'd know from experience – he often felt that he was naturally a klutz and only rarely serious or dangerous for the situation. With Bakura, though – it had become an art.

"Yugi-kun?" the questioning voice interrupted his thoughts, "Is everything all right?"

"Wha- Yeah – sorry. Mind wandered." _Think, think! _an internal voice that wasn't his other practically screamed at him_. Distraction!_ Bakura-kun didn't need to worry about him when it should be the other way around. "So – I just remembered. There was something Jii-chan wanted you to look at – said he couldn't find one of the pieces-" he _wouldn't_ look up, _wouldn't_ check for his friend's reaction, would _trust_ "-and I reminded him that you work with making models for table-top role playing games. I thought maybe you could see if you could make a new one or something."

Brown eyes widened, startled. A reaction that Yugi hadn't been able to miss. "I- I'd be honoured," the polite voice said, even more careful than usual. "If you are sure that you want _me_ t do the job – I mean, something that would get sold, I wouldn't want to make any mistakes – a professional might-"

"But Bakura-kun, I've seen the kind of things you can do!" Innocence was laid on thick and a watching spirit rolled his eyes. "And I think it'd be absolutely awesome to see you make one. I thought the you made Shizuka-chan's was amazing, to be honest."

"I. . . ah . . . " Brown wavered, darkened, brightened _with_ the light of doing something he loved, the same light Yugi shone with every time he was confronted with a new game or a new friend. "I'd love to, Yugi-kun. Though, I'd need a reference of some kind."

"No problem!" Yugi said, practically bouncing back to the bag he'd left leaning against the wall in Bakura's room. They'd be sleeping close by, as Bakura hadn't been thinking about guests when he'd taken out the rent on the apartment, so had not thought of getting a spare room. Yugi could only imagine that in his friend's heart, probably even to this day, guests and friends who were too close meant danger. Not to him, but to them. Yugi – and the others – were trying to break him out of that habit of opinion. "I've got the rest of the pieces here," he called back, purposefully ignoring the Ring hanging on the wall by Bakura's bed. "I didn't know how many or which ones you'd need, so I brought them all. Maybe we could have a game later, too!"

"I'd like that," Came the reply from down the hall. "I'd only need one of the matching pieces to re-create the missing pieces, though."

"Okay!" Yugi cheerfully called back in the affirmative as he started to rummage through first the bag and then the game's box and contents to find what he'd been after. "Got it!" He tore back to the game room, where he knew from experience Bakura would be, having seen him put the finishing touches on Monster World miniatures before. And sure enough, there was white hair sitting busily at the desk, setting out the equipment he'd need. Movements deliberate and reverent towards the tools of his trade, Yugi could still tell that something was splitting his friend's attention. He handed over the original playing piece yet couldn't help but start when his friend wordlessly acknowledged his presence. No matter what he said, it sure would take getting used to that his friend wasn't quite as he always had been.

But at least he knew he didn't have to worry. Neither his friend's life nor soul were being endangered. He was just changing. Certainly in strange ways; but who could say that any single one of his group of friends was normal in even one sense of the word? Nope. Nothing to worry about.

Yugi watched in awe, the Pharaoh behind his eyes with amazed curiosity as Bakura's hands flew from piece to piece, paints to moulds and inks and wood. His movements were fluid, and something told Yugi that it wasn't something acquired recently. Yet every so often he'd hesitate, or look genuinely preoccupied about something. He'd open his mouth, but wouldn't say anything. So, Yugi wouldn't either. He'd watch, he'd worry, maybe he'd fidget. But until his friend told him what was worrying him, he wouldn't say a thing. No, not a –

"Yugi-kun. . ." His name, whispered so low that he wondered that he'd even heard it. "I – I have to admit. You've probably learned a lot by now. You'll be able to show _me_ all those things, but I won't be able to show you – well, suffice it to say that I hardly know anything." Hands never left his work, never faltered, but eyes flickered from the model to his friend and back again. "I suppose that's more than a little unfair of me, isn't it? I asked you to come here and be my guest, but I don't have anything to give you." Hands paused, face frowned as he came across a particularly hard part and the silence stretched until he had finished it. "I'm an awful host, aren't I?" A bitter smile touched Bakura's face, which Yugi liked not at all. _I _will_ make that smile real,_ he vowed. _It's just not fair that he's been our friend for so long and he _still_ can't smile properly!_

"You know what?" Yugi asked in an even, rhetoric tone. "I don't care." Bakura's hands froze. "Friends is when you don't have to give someone something. You can, but you don't have to. Sometimes the best things you can give a friend are company and trust."

-/And the best things one can often receive are patience and belief/- whispered the other voice in his soul. He smiled, uncertain whether he had been meant to hear that or not.

Bakura put the unfinished model down onto the rough desktop surface, turning to face Yugi with startled brown eyes. "You mean, you really don't mind?"

Yugi grinned. "Nope. Besides, what you've been learning's gotta be loads different to what I've been taught. And don't deny it – the park, this morning, all those other times." He waved his hands in the air to illustrate his point, trying not to hit anything and just missing. "Doubt I'd be any use at it, though," he said, making a face. "Feh. I can't even beat the 'easy' level on DDR."

Was that a smile? A twitch, maybe? Oh, yeah. Score one for the star-head. Bakura likely remembered that time in the week after Battle City as they'd been trying to calm down. Marik, Ishizu and Rishid had already set sail for home and Bakura's arm had still been bandaged with a sling. Anzu-chan had scared off most of the usual victims with her perfect scores, and had been chasing after Jou and Honda before turning on Yugi. In the end, he hadn't made anything more than about five moves right – and hadn't been able to live it down. Still, he'd been able to get back at her later when the arcade hadn't been so busy. It turned out that the Pharaoh was actually quite fast on his feet, and only missed as many as his other had been able to get _right_. Yugi hadn't been able to live that one down either, though.

"Yugi. . . you do know that if I'd been able to, I would've won against you easily back then, don't you?" Bakura's shoulders shook slightly, amusement in chocolate eyes.

"I'll stick to puzzles and mind-games, thanks," Yugi said dryly, "I'll leave the other stuff to mou hitori no boku. He's better at it than I am."

"Only because he knows what to do and you don't."

"Nyeh. I'm out of shape."

Bakura started laughing uncontrollably.

"You use the _same body!_"

This time Yugi just stuck his tongue out at his friend and gave in to laughter.

After that, a tranquil kind of quiet settled over the apartment. Bakura put away the tools that had been making the replica playing piece up until then with great care, placing the piece itself particularly safely. He and Yugi joked about, reminding each other of things they'd done, seen or heard. Sometimes, neither would speak at all. In those moments of silence the only sounds would be the ticking of the clock, the birds outside, audible from the open windows, the rare sound of a car speeding down the road, people on the sidewalk and the rest of the apartment block close by talking like the wondrously normal people they were. Every now and then a tinkling sound came from the other room where Bakura's ring hung on a peg, jingling like a wind chime, its pointers dancing in the wind like the feathers on a dream catcher.

Blue skies darkened, turned to grey – to a painting of blood and fire scribed on the sky, and Yugi was showing Bakura how to summon. So far, they weren't actually getting very far, as the moment Yugi had brought his Kuriboh into the real world to demonstrate, it had started to fly around Bakura's apartment, escaping from one room to another with surprising speed for a fluffball fiend. By the time they caught up to it back in the living room, both humans were out of breath and the fiend, curiosity sated, asleep against a seated Yugi who was trying to assure his friend that this didn't happen every time.

"Kuriboh's just curious is all. I don't think ever been out of my house if it wasn't in a duel."

"I see."

"Anou. . . do you have a monster you could practice summoning with? Low levels are best. They don't take so much out of you."

"Anything else?"

"Um. . . don't use anyone too intelligent. No offence to my deck, but I don't want to be lectured on not summoning unless it's in an actual Game again. Also, no one too vicious."

"Well, that goes without saying," Bakura agreed suppressing a shiver. "I'd hate to think what kind of chaos a Man-Eater Bug would make. I doubt I'd even have an apartment left. . ." He caught the look Yugi was aiming his way and smiled. "Yes, I do still have the Bug."

"Have you got anything that _would_ work?" Yugi asked, still trying to get over that slight bit of information.

"Actually, I do have – yes, that would work. . . How did you say you do it again?"

"Hold up the card in front of you, summon the Shadows, and call the card's name," he said as his other had said to him so many times.

Bakura held up a carefully selected card, and Yugi felt Shadows draw in as his friend touched the Millennium Ring with a hesitant hand. His mouth opened, cautious, then stronger. Said the name.

"Angelic Ryū, level one!"

Yugi gaped. Shadows gathered around his friend, at first unstable, but slowly forming some sort of control. A number of times they wavered, fighting to break free of the one whose will suppressed them and the familiar hunger of purple and grey. Beads of sweat broke out on Bakura's forehead, eyes alight with determination and stubborn resolve that, had it not been for the wave of sheer strength of will that made Yugi's eyes widen, might not have been enough.

"_Bakura-kun!"_

"I – I'm all right. Really. No need to worry."

/Was that. . .?/

-/The other Bakura? It certainly _felt_ like it. I only hope that this is a good sign, not a bad one./-

/Well I for one am not complaining. Though what does bug me. . ./

"_Fuiiii!_"

"Eh?"

"Heheh. . ." Bakura laughed nervously, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck in embarrassment. Hovering in midair beside him was now a serpentine-like creature with draconic features and cherubic wings. Coloured like a pale rainbow of whites, yellows and blues, Yugi had to admit with a – hopefully – silent giggle that the monster suited his friend rather well.

"I don't think you've met the Angelic Ryū before. I might have played him during my duel with Jonouchi-kun, but I think you weren't paying too much attention."

"Ah – certainly not someone I recognize, but then again, you did say you were changing your deck. Was this the original one?"

"Actually, no. Revised." A pause to tickle the little dragonling earned him a purr and a head stroke to his arm. "A lot of the cards weren't there before. I just kept the . . . form." Laughter as feathered wings caught a ticklish spot on bare arms. "But Ryū-chan's one of my newer friends, yes."

Yugi let out a long breath. "Well, that _would_ do it."

A puzzled glance. "What would?"

Yugi considered counting to help with patience – usually Bakura picked up on things quicker. "Bakura-kun. I've known most of my cards, my deck, for about _two years_. You've only had maybe a day or two." Patience. He would have patience. He would not laugh, an he most certainly would not cry out in frustration. "Your deck hasn't even really gotten to know you yet. And the last time you – the other you – _really_ duelled, it was with a different deck. No wonder the Shadows didn't want to obey you at all-" Yugi stopped, cut off by Bakura's wince. "What happened there?" he asked, confused.

"Nothing, " came the snappy reply. "I just wish you could have a way to hold your hands over your ears while being told off _in your mind_."

He wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't – _damn_. He was laughing.

"What was that for?"

"S-sorry. Can't help it. It's just – the number of times mou hitori no boku and the Dark Magician have done _exactly_ the same thing to me when I did something stupid. . ."

A ghost of a not-so-bitter smile. "He says he wouldn't have a physical body to move about in if I just got taken by the Shadows." A touch of pain in brown eyes said that the spirit had said more than that, making the Pharaoh seethe in righteous anger before Yugi calmed him down.

/At least he _is_ helping Bakura-kun some. That's something, right? And if Bakura-kun really thought that he was only being used like that, I think – I think-/

_That he'd be hurting one hell of a lot more_.

His darkness didn't say anything, but wrapped comfort around him like a blanket. They were brought back to the present by an apologetically tired sigh and a worried _"Fuoo?"_ from the dragon.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be taking things out on you. I messed up and got confused."

"Confused with what?" What could you get confused with summoning?

Bakura flashed a brilliant smile and dismissed the dragon, reassuring it that its master was just fine. Then, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and invited Yugi to join him.

"This is something I _can_ teach you how to do! It's easy, really. Just watch me."

So saying, he closed his eyes, looking far more peaceful than Yugi suspected he actually was. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands together, and then slowly drew them back apart.

Yugi gasped.

Writhing in the space in between his friend's hands was living purple, gray and black. Shadows.

"_H-how?_"

With half his concentration still on the living mass in his hands, Bakura explained.

"To be able to do this, you have to have an iron will. You don't have to have a reason for the Shadows to obey you – just the power of command. _You_ are their reason to obey."

/_Command?_ I didn't think Bakura-kun – I mean-/

-/It's not really all that surprising. We've seen only some of the things he's been through. I'd be more worried if _wasn't_ like that./-

"Why don't you try, Yugi-kun?"

Air. There was just air now.

"I – ah – don't know if-"

"If you can summon, you can do this," Bakura said firmly.

-/I agree. But if you need any help, I am not waiting for you to ask me for it./-

/Thank you./

-/You remember what he told you? How he did it?/-

/Yep./

-/Ready?/-

/No. Not really. But - /

"_Here goes_," he whispered under his breath.

Touching gold with his mind, he reached out for the sparks of darkness. _I must be suicidal_, he wondered to himself, before drawing them together in his hands and commanding. They fought, a primal _don't-know-you-_won't_-obey-free-destroy-hungry_ feeling that almost made him sick. But the golden magic was his, and he was stronger. He wouldn't let himself lose. He just plain couldn't afford to.

_Anzu-chan. Jonouchi-kun. Honda-kun. __Jii-chan. You won't get hurt next time something bad happens. I promise_.

He pulled his hands apart as if the Shadows were thick and sticky molasses and almost missed Bakura congratulating him on getting it right first time when his vision started to blur.

-/All right, that's enough./-

For a moment there was a roaring in his ears, a wordless protest that ceased quickly enough that the sound still rang in his mind. His vision cleared. _Thank the kami for small miracles_, he thought. If I hadn't been sitting down already – wait. . . Bakura'd all but told him to sit before even trying this. He must've known. And he was able to do it that well?

"Are you all right?" Yugi nodded. He wasn't hurt, wasn't swallowed up whole by a Shadow rift, hadn't been attacked by a power-crazy-über-villain. Yeah, he was alright. Bakura sighed, relieved. "That happened to me the first time I tried. I'm - I should have warned you, but . . . we all have different places that power comes from. It might not have come to you if you'd tried to think about it beforehand." A simple smile played about Bakura's face as he flicked one of the Ring's pointers, making it jingle. "However, I _have_ been told that once one has that will, it'll be like a whole different area of magic."

Yugi laughed, trying to ease away some of the nervous jitters he'd been left with. "Now _that'd_ be something to think about." Laughter died out, and Yugi sighed. "You're stronger than I thought you were, you know."

"I am?"

"Yeah. At least. . . to show me what you did before. . . you said it needed _command_ and _will_. I don't think that I would have been able to get that far in so short a time."

"I did have weeks," Bakura commented dryly.

"That's not the point," Yugi said, nearly whispering.

There was an awkward silence. The clock ticked. Yugi fought not to squirm at the way Bakura had hidden his face behind his hair, hiding his face in shadows.

"I hadn't realized it had become so late," Bakura said, putting on an air of cheer and standing up. "No wonder I'm so hungry! I sure you must be starving, too. I'll see what I can do..."

And so dinner was served. The conversation that ran through the course of the meal was tense and uncomfortable. The subject was changed whenever talk got too close to anything touchy, both of them trying not to say even a word that might turn the awkward exchange of words into a bitter silence. The dishes were cleaned and put away, the game room cleared up and made neat with a precociousness that made Yugi wonder what had happened to make his friend so meticulous. For some reason he didn't think that the answer was too hard to guess.

Later on, and Yugi was trying to find a soft spot in his pallet, and failing. His mind kept going over and over the events of the day, making him so preoccupied that he couldn't sleep. He rolled over yet again, hands wrapped around the chain of the puzzle. Although oddly enough Bakura was doing a similar thing with his Ring, he still felt all the same the familiar peace coming from the puzzle that meant that his other self was resting. It reassured him. Maybe there wouldn't be any trouble at all. Things had been going so well – so far, at least. In that respect, anyway . . . He fidgeted again.

"Yugi-kun. . ."

_So you couldn't sleep either, huh?_

"I . . . want to tell you what happened. I should have said something earlier, but -"

"It doesn't matter. I'm listening now."

Yugi heard Bakura take a deep breath. "Did you know that I was a twin?" Bakura asked softly. Yugi shook his head silently, making the pillow rustle. Bakura sighed. "I was.

"Amane-chan. I was older than her only by minutes, and I was made a nii-san. We grew up together, and no matter where Tou-san and Kaa-san were, we were always together." A sad laugh. "Sometimes it was difficult to tell which one of us was which – I even grew my hair long, so they couldn't even use that as a means of telling us apart. We even caught our parents out, sometimes."

Yugi's eyes bugged. Bakura, the one who was too polite for his own good, had been like that? Surely that was impossible.

"F-four years ago. We all took a trip to Egypt, to see where Tou-san had been working. We took a tour of the area. We found things with the people on the dig. We made friends. And then we had to go home. Only Tou-san couldn't. He had to stay . . . just a little longer." Bakura's voice caught. "A little too longer."

For a minute there was a midnight quiet as Bakura held himself together. Yugi himself didn't know what to say. He hardly knew what to think.

"It happened less than a week after Amane-chan, Kaa-san and I got back." His voice got softer, but more numb. "I wasn't even there. Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if I had been – would fate have rebelled and let them live, just because I was going to be needed later on? Or was what did happen fate's cold way of saving me, but not them? Sometimes, I hate fate.

I was staying with my Aunt and Uncle. Kaa-san had taken Amane-chan to see a ballet in Tokyo. I hadn't been interested. I'd wanted Aunt and Uncle to show me the new board game they'd bought me, instead." A touch of irony invaded his tone. "So there I was, not really understanding what was going on, playing my game while my Aunt was on the phone. I can just remember holding a little white wizard so hard they thought I was going to hurt myself as they told me that two of my most precious people in the whole world weren't going to be coming back to me."

_White Wizard. No wonder the piece had been so strong,_ Yugi thought to himself, as it dawned on him. _Four years. All this happened when he was ten. Kami-sama_.

When next he spoke, Bakura's voice was almost emotionless. "It was during that same week that Father sent me the Millennium Ring. He didn't know what it was. Still doesn't. Didn't know what had happened."

_K'so_. Deliberately putting the Puzzle aside, he got out of the uncomfortable bed and went over to where his friend was sitting up. Opened his – short – arms and let him cry. He wasn't much, but he was something, and for someone who had been alone like that, something was everything. He didn't need to do anything. He just needed to be there. Like his Jii-chan and his Kaa-chan and his other self had always been there for him. K'so, dammit. It didn't have to happen so fast. . .

Silent tears wetted the shoulder of his pyjama shirt, and the one thought that ran through his head was _it's_ _not fair, it's just not fair_.

Yugi and Bakura both got to sleep that night, even though neither of them slept well. Bad memories for one and sympathetic sadness for the other ensured that much.

* * *

_Tap. Tap tap. Clatter tap._

_Screech! Clatter!_

((Shut the Ra-damn noise off, Yadonoushi, or I'll do it for you. Knowing my luck, it's probably a dead man walking.))

Uh-oh. And the noise was coming from –

"Yugi! Wake up!"

"Eh? Whassup, Jii-chan? Wanna sleep. . ."

Bakura sighed in exasperation. Well, it _was_ the holiday still. "Yugi! The window! Look out of the window!"

"Huh?"

_Tap tap. Tap. Screech!_

"Bakura-kun. There's owls outside your window."

_Please, world. Save me from the obvious_. "I noticed."

"Do you know what they're doing there?"

Hitting my head against a brick wall might not be useful, but it might be satisfying right now. "I don't usually have birds of any kind outside my window."

_Clatter – scritch. . ._

Bakura sighed. "Yugi, I think that maybe we should move things away from the window. They look like they're about ready to drop off the window sill."

"Right." While Yugi moved his impromptu bed out from right under the window, Bakura started to undo the latches so that he could let the birds in. It was strange – he recognized them as British, but who would import a British owl? More over, who would import one and then make it fly so long?!

With a click the window was open, and the room was filled with feathers. And then – it wasn't. In the space of merely heartbeats they had just – vanished. Or not quite. The two could be seen winging their way out of sight, towards . . . somewhere. A snicker echoed back from the Ring, which was still on his bedside table. ((Not so tired now, are they? I'd suggest looking at what they were carrying. I wouldn't want it to be something to get in my way again.))

(They were carrying something?) Bakura asked his other while looking for anything that an owl might have carried.

((Ahou. It's on your bed.)) A frown. ((Letters. And it seems as though the brat's got one, too.))

"Why would an owl carry a letter?" he wondered to the room in general. (And don't call him that. He's my friend.)

((Your point being exactly what?)) _Never mind him. Just stay calm_.

"Search me," Yugi threw back. "I've had tapes with mind-sucking villains in the post before, but not this. Besides that, how did it know where I was?"

Wait a minute. They knew where he - Rapidly, Bakura flipped the letter over onto the side with the address on it, and sighed with relief. Not anyone's handwriting that he knew, and judging from the reaction of total incomprehension and furious killing intent that anyone would dare to try and prank _him_ coming from his darkness, it was no one he knew either.

_Mr. Ryou Bakura_, the address read in English,

_The Only Bedroom_

_Apartment 606_

_Domino City_

"Yugi," he asked faintly, "Can I see yours?"

Yugi complied and within moments he was looking at an almost identical letter. Same old parchment paper, same green ink, same crest on the back with a distinctive 'H'. The address was only slightly different. _Mr. Yugi Mutou, The Bedroom Floor, Apartment 606, Domino City_. He handed the letter back, hands shaking somewhat.

He took up his own letter once more and started to open it. After all, who wouldn't want to know the identity of the one who had just sent two letters with such specific addresses on them?

"_What?!_"

" 'Dear Mr. Mutou'," Yugi read from his, " 'We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on first of September. We await your reply by no later than the thirty-first of July. Instructions on how to contact us are included. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress.' At least, that's what mine says. Yours the same?"

Bakura nodded mutely.

"_Weird. . ._"

(I . . . I'd say that it was Jonouchi-kun or Honda-kun, but . . .)

((The mutt and his sidekick aren't that clever. They wouldn't know how to get the birds to do their trick, or the brains to write something like that. It'd have to be someone else. Besides-))

_Ring. Ring._

Bakura froze. There was only one other person outside of Yugi and his group of friends who knew his number, and he shouldn't be calling him right now. Unless . . .

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

He rushed out into the living room, barely giving himself time to slip his house-slippers on in his haste to get to the phone before the caller was cut off.

"Moshi moshi-"

"Good, you aren't dead or dumped in the Duat. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever answer." The sound of footsteps told him that Marik was pacing.

((_Mine._))

_Oof. I will never, ever get used to that_, Bakura thought to himself as the Spirit of the Ring took over his body. _Then_ _again, I don't think that I even want to get used to it. . _.

His head hurt. Which was actually saying quite a lot, as technically speaking he didn't _have_ a head that _could_ hurt at the moment. Such things were simply the banes, albeit small ones, of being left aware.

"Baka!" he heard himself growl at the phone. "Ahou! Total and utter incompetent! He warned you what was going to happen today. _Who_ was coming. Are you completely insane?"

"In case you don't already know, this _is_ actually important! Someone knows where I live!"

Bakura's breath caught in his throat. He could practically see the gears working in his other's mind.

"I'm willing to bet that a few hundred archaeologists know where you live, and you haven't called _me_ up before."

"This is different, you fool!" In the buzz of noises from the outside, he could hear scuffling and small, quiet but not silent footsteps approaching them. "Someone wrote to me. My exact location. Detailed description of the place where I live. On. A. Letter!"

Holding the phone away from his ear as if it was a live snake, the embodied spirit turned to face the hallway where Yugi was failing to creep up on the conversation.

"Oi. Kisama. The letter." Yugi jumped, startled, but gave it to him all the same. Bakura wondered whether hiding under the bed in his soul room would let him escape the explaining he would have to do after the phone was put down. Somehow, knowing the Spirit, it probably wasn't very likely.

"Let me guess," said spirit was saying, phone back against his ear. "Feathers. Old parchment. Green ink. Inviting you to a school for freaks."

Silence. The kind that said: break me and there'll be screams. Loud ones.

"How did you know?" came the rasped reply.

"Keh. Easy. Yadonoushi and his royal highness over here both got one," the spirit taunted, flapping Yugi's letter about in the air.

"You're not serious."

"If I wasn't serious then I wouldn't have been able to tell you exactly what was in that letter of yours!" he said, flipping out. "If I was joking, then I would have sent you a letter infused with Shadows to show you something much more terrifying than the prospect of school, Marik Ishtar!"

Three sharp hisses of breath. One from himself, one from Yugi, eyes bugged and wondering what was going on, one from Marik himself, full of pain and fear.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Marik hissed weakly.

Bakura cringed from the _smirk_ that was displayed on his face, clutching a perfectly crafted White Wizard in one hand.

"Your own fault, baka. If you could have waited, I wouldn't have been able to. But I could, so I did. _Payback_."

". . . Dammit, you."

"Bakura-san. That's Marik, isn't it?"

A calculating gleam entered darkened brown eyes and the smirk widened. "What do you think, chibi? Here, catch."

(Hey! That's my phone!)

((He caught it, didn't he?))

(That's beside the point!)

"Marik-kun?"

A short pause. Yugi sighed.

"Marik-kun, why didn't you stay in contact with us? Ishizu-san called a couple of times, but never mentioned you. We've been worried."

Silence. Yugi's eyes darkened with frustration, going in and out of focus in a way that told Bakura without a doubt that he was conferring with the Pharaoh.

"But that's _stupid_!" he finally exploded. "Of _course_ we don't hate you. Neither does Jonouchi-kun, or Honda-kun – yes, you'd better believe it – and not Mai-san – kami, no, she does _not_ think of you that way!"

_Well_.

"Argh. Don't even _try_ that line with me!"

_At least they're talking to each other._

"Bakayarou." Yugi's voice had softened. "Hiding wouldn't do you any good. If something bad did end up happening, not saying that it ever will again, then it'd happen no matter where you were. In that case, wouldn't it have been better if we were together, so we could fight whatever happened as a team, ne?"

((Oh, the _boredom_. If I stick around any longer, I'm going to be sick.))

And – movement was achieved. As well as a now fully corporeal yet fading headache. Bakura twitched his fingers and toes just to make sure, and proceeded to lean back against the wall for support. Meanwhile, Yugi and Marik's discussion had turned back to the point at hand.

"Yeah, I know how weird it was – it even knew that I was sleeping on the floor! No . . . None of us have told anyone about where you live. . . Well, only that you're in Egypt, but that's about all. We know how you don't like people knowing. No – Bakura-kun didn't tell us anything. Not even that he was in contact with you. The letter? Yeah, I've, uh. . ." Holding the phone slightly away from his mouth, Yugi turned his attention back to him. "Bakura-s- ah, Bakura-kun, you've still got my letter."

Bakura looked down at his hands, and sure enough there in his left hand was a slightly creased piece of parchment paper. "Oh. Sorry. I forgot about that."

"'S all right." Back on the phone, Yugi had gained a look of determined look of purpose. ". . .Yeah. That's all the same on mine. Curly handwriting? Yeah. There's two more sheets in mine. One looks like a list, and – same with you, huh?" Yugi took out one of the other sheets of parchment and started to scan through it. "Mine says something about some place in Tokyo. Some place hidden behind a coffee shop. . . . Cairo, for you? Did Ishizu-san hear anything? Really? Nothing? . . . Um, sure. Bakura-kun, he wants to ask you something."

Me?

"Y-yes?"

"You're good at this sort of thing, Ryou," Marik said with a similar resolution to get to the bottom of this apparent in his voice. "Could you tell anything about the letters themselves? Any trace of Shadows at all?"

Bakura thought back to the times when he had handled them, the way they had felt, the way they had sounded when they rustled. He looked at Yugi's, touched the Ring around his neck to make absolutely sure that it had nothing to do with the Millennium Items themselves.

"No." He shook his head in bewilderment. "Nothing at all. You'd think that since we've been touching them and passing them along to each other all the time – wait a minute! I've got to try something . . ."

"Bakura-kun, what's going on?"

"Yugi-kun. There aren't any Shadows on the letters. None. But – I just thought – what if there was something else? Something that protected them from being . . . changed in any way."

"But other than another Millennium Item that dealt with the Shadows anyway, what kind of magic could do that?"

"That's what _I'm_ wondering. Would you mind standing very still for me, Yugi?"

"But what – _oh_."

Yugi stood as still as he could, holding the letter far enough above the puzzle that the two would have no chance to be mistaken by the Millennium Ring's power. _Magic, not Shadows_, Bakura thought hard to himself, dimly aware of a presence of blood-fear-strength-anger making damn sure that he didn't make even a single mistake. _Not Millennium magic, not golden power. Something else. Find something-else magic. Here._

A tingle in his fingers, fiery warmth running into his hands. A jingle of the Ring's pointers, and he opened his eyes _wide_.

_Oh. My_.

The Item was pointing directly at Yugi's Hogwarts letter, glowing golden light. The letter itself looked just as innocuous as before, but the winking of the Horus eye on the Millennium Ring proved otherwise.

"Well?" Marik sounded annoyed as well as impatient. "What happened? I can't tell from all the way over here, you know."

"It . . . worked."

"What did?"

"I – I told the Ring to find a kind of magic or power that had nothing to do with the Millennium Items, or even the Shadows." He took a gulp. "It worked. The letter. . . it's not from anyone we know."

"You're sure? Absolutely certain?"

Bakura nodded before remembering that he was on the phone. "Definitely. I had help. There was no way that it could have said something wrong."

On the other end, Bakura could hear Marik call for Ishizu and Rishid. For a few long minutes, conversation could be heard as the three Tomb Keepers this unexpected and unusual turn of events. Finally, he was graced with the sound of someone picking the phone back up from wherever Marik had put it down.

"You still there?"

"I'm still here."

"Good. Tell Yugi and the Pharaoh that we're coming back. This seems to be something important, so we'll see if we can be there in a few days this time. If anything else comes up on your end, call us." _Click_.

Putting the phone down on his end, Bakura stared at it for a minute as if it had sprung alive and grown two heads.

"What did he say? Does he have any idea?"

Bakura shook his head. "They're coming back. Marik, Ishizu, Rishid. In a few days, he said. I don't know what's really going on, but it's beyond me, and it's beyond them . . ."

* * *

Translations

Ahou - fool

Aibou - Partner

Baka - Stupid etc.

Duat - Egyptian mythology, kind of like hell. Here, I also use as another word for the Shadow Realm itself.

Kaa-san - Mother

K'so - Damn (or similar expletive/swear word)

Nii-san - Big brother

Tou-san - Father

Yadonoushi - Landlord, host. What Yami Bakura calls Ryou.

If you see any word that I haven't translated, Tell Me.

Note on Bakura's name - Marik calls him Ryou because he first knew the Yami by Bakura, even though he knows that it isn't the Spirit's real name. It's easier for him. (especially since I don't think Egyptian/Arabic has the same kind of honorifics as Japanese does, and I'm too lazy to find out.)


	5. Company to Chaos

* * *

Company to Chaos – Chapter 5

AN: Don't expect coming chapters to be this short or be up this quickly. I was writing this during holiday time when I should have been revising and writing a particular essay. . . By the way, if you're getting confused as to Ryou/Bakura/Spirit of the Ring's names, I usually call Ryou (the Hikari) Bakura – as in the manga. He does sometimes get called Ryou, but only on occasion, or by Marik. If you want to find out more about the anomaly of Marik, go read 'Millennium Switch' in my favourites. No doubt I'll get round to explaining it all here maybe at some point, too. . . wanders off whistling Ha- someone else gets a spot in the limelight this chapter. See if you can guess who (no, not someone new).

FIC TRIVIA – In my first drafts I had planned on fitting the DOOM or Orichalcos saga in somewhere. Then I watched it, and decided it _Just Wouldn't Work_.

* * *

"_The fourteen forty-five from Cairo is now approaching the runway_."

"That's them!"

"Oi! Over here! Follow the star head and find the king!"

"_Jonouchi!_"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Marik-kun! Over here and ignore Jonouchi-kun!"

And there they were. Getting closer and closer, Marik could recognize their group anywhere and in any crowd. There was Yugi, easily identifiable by his hair as it bobbed up and down in response to the short duellist's attempts to see above the heads of the crowd, making spikes flap about in the air. Bakura, taller than his friend, didn't have to jump to make his pale white show up in the crowd, and people naturally veered away from the impending disaster that was Jonouchi and Honda. Anzu, keeping to the back of the group out of the boys' way, was waving energetically at his small group of three. Nearby was Sugoroku Mutou, looking pleased for some reason.

Rishid smiled. Nee-san waved politely in their direction, an amused smile on her face as well. Marik himself lifted a hand up in a nervous salute.

_What do I say? Sorry for making your lives a living hell last time I was here? Have you started thinking about when you were going to get the Pharaoh's memories back yet? Or what about the classic_-

"Hey, Rishid-san! Marik-kun! You're looking much better than the last time we saw you! Ishizu-san, too!"

"Er, thank you, Yugi."

"It's true! You look loads more relaxed. Mou hitori no boku says it's kinda in your . . . aura, too. Whatever that means."

Marik looked at Yugi, surprised, but the Pharaoh's host had already turned to different matters, listening in on the conversation Ryou had started with his sister.

"Is that a new necklace, Ishizu-san?"

Ishizu blushed ever so slightly from the attention her new accessory had drawn. Marik tried to resist the urge to roll his eyes. As grown up and demure as she liked people to think she was, Ishizu Ishtar was still as vulnerable to flattery as any other girl.

"Yes, it is. It seems that I grew accustomed to the weight of my item; it would have been strange not to have that, even without the power the power that the Tauk granted me."

"I suppose I understand that," Ryou agreed as Marik started from the revelation. _Nee-san misses it too?!_ Of course, Ishizu had spoken about the Tauk and its power before, that she was relieved to be without the gift and curse of foresight, but never had she said anything about the odd empty feeling that came after having power after so long and then just – giving it up. _But then again,_ he reminded himself, _I never told her about the Rod. I still don't think that I'm ready for that. Out of anyone here, I think that the only person who could ever come close to understanding is Ryou. Who else had gone that far, even taken the power back?_

"Oi, Rishid! You need a hand with all that?"

"Thank you, Jonouchi. But I shall be fine."

"Nonsense! Oi, Honda – stop trying to chat up the pretty lady and help us out here, ya big doofus!"

"No – truly, I am- Ah, thank you . . ."

He had to admit . . . it felt _good_. To not be on their bad side. Oh, the guilt was still there; he doubted that it would ever truly disappear, only fade with time. There was a sharp hurt in his chest seeing Jonouchi trying – and succeeding – to pry luggage away from Rishid.

"Marik-kun, are you all right?"

Once again, he started, jumping slightly at not just the words but also the flecks of crimson in violet eyes. Shame, as his body's first natural reflex was to tense as if there was a threat. Which there _wasn't_. He shook his head.

"No. . . But I'm getting there." Taking another look at the busy airport, he sighed. Ishizu was asking Anzu whether Seto Kaiba had heard of their return, and was told that yes, he had been told, but that the CEO had said that neither he nor Mokuba would have anything to do with them so long as they insisted on playing their silly magic games and kept on believing in destiny. Jonouchi did an overly-exaggerated impression of the ex-world champion duellist, making almost all of their group if not laugh or giggle, at least smile.

Stepping out of the building and into the light, Marik lifted his face towards the sun, eyes closed and letting the slight breeze blow around him like the day he'd first felt the wind.

"You have no idea what it feels like," Marik said finally, smiling a true smile, "to have always walked in the darkness and only now felt real daylight. Or to have been blinded and suddenly able to see. To have been cursed . . . weighted down, and yet now you're so free that you could fly. And I'm only spreading my wings."

Yugi _grinned_. No red at all, this was all his. The one he'd hurt the most was grinning at him like that. The world had gone insane.

"Tell you what. . ."

"What?"

"Your punishment for keeping _us_ in the dark . . . I'm gonna make you play DDR against Anzu-chan! It's a dance game, which is what Anzu's best at, and no one's ever won against her before! So I think that'll do."

Marik laughed nervously. "I don't know how good I am at dancing, though..."

"That's the point. But," he added quickly, "your next opponent can be me!"

"You?" _You want me to play any game against you, remembering what happened the last time?_

"Sure!" Yugi said, as if it was obvious. "Anzu-chan's the best, and I'm the worst." _The Pharaoh's partner was 'worst' at any game? Hard to believe._ "Though, Bakura-kun hasn't played yet either, so we might see him up on the stage, too."

"Just make sure you don't let the other Bakura trick you into a game. He's not too tactful, but he's as bad – if not worse – at manipulating people as I am."

"I'll make sure of it," Yugi promised. "And even if I do get tricked, mou hitori no boku's much better than I am. Though I don't think I could take either of them really seriously after they've played a _DDR_ Shadow Game."

Apparently seeing the shocked expression on his face, Yugi elaborated. "I'm used to Shadow Games, Marik-kun. They've happened to me . . . us . . . ever since I solved the Millennium Puzzle. More often than not, it's one of my friends that got hurt, or betrayed, or used. Believe me, you would _not_ have wanted mou hitori no boku angry at you for any of those reasons this time last year." Yugi shrugged. "We've learned off each other. Sometimes I feel kinda weird about some of the stuff we did, but that's okay. It happened. Maybe there's gonna be other games as well, but those I'll be playing with him, rather than in the background."

"You're not – uncomfortable, talking about that kind of thing?"

Another shrug. "Not really. Nope. You don't have to be careful with us – we don't bite. Not any more. To you."

As Marik was trying to figure out just what this meant, he missed Yugi's Grandpa catch up to them.

"Marik," the old man said, as if he was an equal and not a fourteen year-old boy. "Have you thought about where you're staying at all? If my memory of what Yugi told me serves correctly, you never had the chance to need a Domino hotel last time you were here."

Mutou-san's memory hadn't failed him. During Battle City, he and Rishid had spent the first half on the cruise liner and the second on the Battle Ship. Nee-san had been the only one to need a hotel room at all. He shared a smile with the rest of his family.

"Well, you see . . . there was a bit of an – ironic situation."

"Huh? What's that mean?"

"You see, nowadays Domino seems to be very, very popular. People think of it as Duellist central, and since it's summer, it's ten times worse than usual. The only vacancies Nee-san could find were in a posh place that was taking business customers. They only had two rooms free," he added pointedly. "Also, apparently, I was too young. They wouldn't let minors stay."

As Yugi's grandpa sighed, he shared a knowing smirk with his brother, his sister and Ryou, whose eyes seemed a shade darker than usual, in a familiar way.

"You see, both Nee-san and Rishid now have jobs with the museum back home, but although Egypt recognizes me as a person of certain importance, other countries don't have that same . . . history."

"Oh, dear, I suppose you're going to need a place to stay won't you?" Sugoroku shook his head in bemused worry.

"I'm sure we could find a space for you, Marik-kun! Tou-san's away right now, so you could probably use his room, ne, Jii-chan?"

"Oh, I'm sure that would be possible, after all he did say-"

But Marik, after sharing a panicked glance with Ryou, was shaking his head violently, making everyone stare at him. In his head his nightmares replayed themselves, the sickening clunk of solid gold as it hit the floor. Ryou said that Yugi kept the remaining Items in a sports bag in his room. _I could – I don't want to think what I could do . . ._

"No. I – I couldn't impose on you like that. I just-"

"Besides, he's going to be staying at my apartment, aren't you, Marik?"

Thank the gods for small miracles and people who understood. He nodded weakly.

"He can crash on my sofa for as long as he needs to. I really don't mind."

Ishizu and Rishid shared a look as they reached the crossing. One way led to the hotel, and the other in what they assumed was Bakura's apartment by the way the boy glanced that way more than the others. With promises that they would all meet back up at the arcade once the Ishtars had had enough time to finish unpacking, Yugi and the rest of his group minus Ryou Bakura headed off on their separate ways, just after Ryou had somehow managed to get Marik's suitcase back from Jonouchi. As they walked, neither spoke for a long time.

"Thanks."

"It was nothing. I don't know how great the sofa is for sleeping on, so you might find the floor more comfortable, since I don't have a spare room. I haven't really got that much to offer you. Other than a distinct lack of temptation, of course."

"Like I said, thank you."

The two walked to the apartment in silence.

* * *

**-**_**One week after Battle City**_**- **

_Ring-ring. Ring-ring. Ring . . ._

Marik paced around the rented apartment, cordless phone gripped firmly against his ear. Half of him wanted the person on the other end to simply not pick up, let his call be forgotten as yet another wrong number.

The other half wasn't so kind. It told him that he had a duty. That the boy at least deserved this.

The phone picked up.

"_Moshi-moshi_."

_Tired_, he thought as his throat stuck, rendering him mute. _This is the first time I've ever heard _him_ speak without pain in his voice._

". . . hello? Who – could I ask who this is, please?"

A yawn. _Damn. _Very_ tired. I didn't get the time difference wrong, did I?!_

"Sorry-" he cut himself off, almost put the phone down.

"Wait!"

His hand froze. Slowly gravitated back to his ear.

"Marik – that is you, right? Are you still there?"

"I'm still here."

"Then tell me why the- Tell me why you haven't talked to Yugi since you left! We were all worried that something had happened on the way back. Obviously, it hadn't. This is an Egyptian number."

"But how - ?"

"My father works in Egypt most of the time. I know how to recognize one."

Oh. Ishizu had told him about how Ryou Bakura's father was the owner of the Domino museum. What confused him was why the boy's father lived so far away. But he wasn't about to bring that up when he still hadn't really done what he had called for.

"Bakura?"

"I'm listening."

"I'm sorry.

"You said that before."

"I mean it now." _And I didn't before? "_I needed to know how you were."

A slightly not-so-polite snort. "I'm fine. A day in hospital and a day or so of rest. Jonouchi and Rishid seemed to come out of the whole mess worse off than I did, and Jonouchi-kun's being as if nothing had ever happened." A pause. "My arm's in a sling and the doctors say that it's going to scar nicely because it wasn't given enough time to heal when it was first treated." _Ouch. And they told me he was polite_. That sounded like an 'It's Your Fault And You Know It' if ever he heard one. "Still," Bakura continued in softer tone, "Things aren't as bad as the time _he_ stabbed my hand into a Monster World polyresin tower. I couldn't write properly for ages."

_Double ouch_. "But it wasn't _me_ who-"

"You didn't stop him either, did you?"

Marik hesitated, startled. He actually recognized that tone of voice, and could just imagine raised brows and crossed arms, eyes boring through him. But it was definitely the boy's true personality – he'd given the Millennium Ring back to the Pharaoh after his surrender.

"Never mind. I can forget about it." A sigh. "How are Ishizu-san and Rishid-san?"

". . . they're fine. Nee-san still has her job with the government, working with museums. She's enlisted Rishid to help her."

Only part-time, of course. Rishid wouldn't just leave him for something so small. Marik knew that if he so much as mentioned in passing that he felt the need for company, Rishid would be there. A steady pillar of strength in a sand storm.

"And what about you?"

Marik shrugged. "I talked Ishizu into letting me rent an apartment not too far away from home. It helps. It also helps that I'm getting the chance to see more of my homeland than just what's under the ground."

A pause, during which Marik heard the distinct sound of another yawn.

"You need your rest."

He heard Bakura sigh into the phone before answering. "That's what the doctors said. It's not actually even all that late over here, but it sure does feel that way."

"I'll leave you be, then. I know what it's like to recover from something. Just do one thing for me."

"What's that? I don't see what I could. . ."

"Don't tell Yugi I called."

The words came out of his mouth the same as he'd said something similar to Ishizu and Rishid when they had been contacted by the Yugi-tachi. _Please. Don't tell them I'm here. I can't speak to them. Not yet._

"I don't know whether that's wise, Marik." Bakura's words were slow and deliberate, asking him to reconsider. But he'd already thought long and hard.

"I'm not ready yet. I had to apologize to _you_, but I need more time. Things aren't perfect yet, and I don't want to-"

"I . . ."

For a long few minutes, there was silence. Thoughts ran in circles in his mind. Could he trust this Bakura whom he had hardly ever spoken to as an equal before now? Or was the boy too much of a friend to the Pharaoh and his mortal host and partner to withhold such valuable information?

"I'll see what I can do. I'm not too great at lying, but I'll try to not tell them. But in return, I'm saving this number. And if you call me on any other phone, I'll save that number, too. If you'd want to talk. If you get bored. Whatever. Oyasuminasai."

-**end**-

* * *

Jonouchi had followed Yugi back to the Kame game store, and for an hour they had crashed at the shop, just talking. Just the four of them. Well, the four of them plus Yuge's Jii-chan. The original gang, like old times. Admittedly, back in the old times they'd been talking about Shadows the same way they were talking about this new stuff. _For once_, he thought, _Kaiba's got a point. There's _far_ too much magic in the world_.

As they walked back to the arcade, it seemed that each one of them was making a sort of promise; that there'd be no mention of serious stuff while having fun. For once, for just one afternoon, they'd try to be normal teenagers. Shadows and magic and battles would be as forgotten as they could be – there was no way that Yugi and Bakura could just forget about their . . . _friends_, after all. The other Yugi would be upset and Bakura probably wouldn't let the damn thing get too far away from him. There would be no talk of freaky magic letters, not any of what had happened a couple of months ago. Of course, they'd have to talk about that sooner or later. Just not now.

It was only when they turned the corner onto the street and started walking towards the arcade itself that they heard the sounds of an argument in full swing. No raised voices, but clear enough to recognize. Marik, Jonouchi realized. No way he'd ever forget the pissed-off tones of that guy. But the other was – Bakura?! They edged closer cautiously.

"You could have warned me! I start to put my things away, and-"

"I _did_ warn you. _You_ just didn't listen."

"All I heard you say after we got in through the door was that you were going to be making _tea_!"

"I _told_ you to be careful – not to open anything without telling me first."

"No, you didn't."

"Then you should have guessed, even if you didn't hear me say anything. You know even more than _I_ do about what my _other_ tenant is like."

Other _tenant? Oh yeah. Marik controlled the guy during Battle City_.

A snort could be heard. "Yeah, right. All we do when we talk is argue. Do you really think that he'd want to miss _that_ by telling me anything?"

Marik was pointing to his other hand, which seemed to be bandaged up slightly. Nothing big, so the guy was probably making more of a fuss out of it than it was worth.

"I looked at it before we set back out," Bakura said in a coldly calm voice. "It was nothing."

"_Nothing?_! It was _sharp_!"

"Let me remind you that not only have I suffered far worse than just a scratch, but also that if it had been meant to be dangerous then it would have actually done damage when it hit."

"And?"

"I should buy padlocks for all of my drawers and throw away the keys," came the mumbled reply.

"How would that help? Then you wouldn't be able to get into them either."

"Not _entirely_ true."

_Ach_. _Do_ not _want to know what that means_.

"Ah . . . guys?"

Thank the kami for Yugi. And now Bakura was turning around, and – there was a cheerful yet embarrassed smile on his face, a barely noticeable lump under his shirt, and now a hand creeping to he nape of his neck in a self-conscious manner. "Ah – sorry about that. Marik here had an accident while he was _being too curious_."

_Ah . . . o_kay. _Can anyone tell me what the _hell _that was all about? Bakura not-possessed and 'rude' just _don't_ go together_, Jonouchi thought as they wound their way through the entrance-way crowds of the Arcade halls. Apparently Yugi and the others felt the same – several bewildered glances were traded, and not a few were sent the white haired boy's way. The familiar sounds of the DDR going off in one direction, incessant chatter of people of all ages assuring their friends that they were going to be winning the next round, the beeping and bopping of gamers pressing buttons and the simulation noises that accompanied them coming from all around. Jonouchi grinned, breathing in the addictive atmosphere, the smell of so many people crammed into one place just to have fun for a few hours.

"Look, Marik-kun! DDR's over that way! Anzu-chan, you gotta come too!"

A few startled heads turned to look in their direction, but no one paid them much mind. Domino Arcade was practically the centre of Duellist downtime, after all. It wasn't really noted that yet another famous Battle City finalist had entered, as if the regular patrons were almost expecting it.

"Oi, oi! Coming through!"

The crowds parted reluctantly at first but then gradually with more heart as they saw just who was going to take the next stand on the stage. Anzu was well known for her perfect scores every time. There were cat calls as Marik mounted the stage, girls whistling and boys cheering him on. Glancing off to one side, he saw Bakura half bring a hand up to his head in humour before the hand dropped, and the boy's sharp gaze was directed at Anzu. Jonouchi was torn between the desire to get between his friend and a threat, and the overwhelming instinct to get the hell away from there. Neither were needed, however.

"Oi – you!" Anzu nearly jumped out of her skin, and he couldn't blame her. "Beat him good!"

For a moment, he could see the conflict in her eyes. Say that she would, and be seen as favouring the enemy – or say that she wouldn't and not do her best.

"Gambatte, Anzu-chan! Go for it and do your best!"

With a _beat, beat, boom_ and _bang!_ the music started.

"Hey! Isn't anyone going to be cheering for _me?!_"

Jonouchi had to admit that Marik could be good – when he was concentrating on the actual game, that is. Most of the time the blond Egyptian was missing steps trading insults with the spirit possessing Bakura.

By the end of the song, Marik and Anzu were both grinning, though slightly out of breath. Yugi was laughing from the hilarity, Jonouchi and Honda from the abuse of language. Bakura was smirking.

"I could do better than that _blindfold_."

"Why don't you back up your words for once and actually make good on them?"

'Bakura' snorted, sending a whisp of hair floating away from his face for a few moments. ". . . no." A full-blown smirk appeared quick as a flash. "Besides, aren't you forgetting that you have to beat the shrimp first?"

"Oi! No fair!"

"_Later_, guys!"

"Yeah! I'm gonna beat Honda on that bike sim game!"

"As if! You don't even know how to ride a motorbike!

"Keh." Marik was keeping his voice down to a more normal level, but could still be heard. "They really are different once you get to know them, aren't they?"

"Different is one way to put it," muttered the spirit. "But they're my friends. I wouldn't want them any other way."

_Huh?_

Tension had dissipated, danger had evaporated and anger had been replaced with a sad calmness. _And I thought Yuge was the only one who could freak me out that way. Damn, but it's just plain weird when they finish each other's sentences_.

"Hey, aren't you at all even worried that your evil alter-ego just came out?"

Bakura smiled at him. "No. Not really. I was well aware of everything that was happening, and no one got hurt, did they?"

"But they coulda."

Bakura shrugged and faced forward, so that Jonouchi only saw half of his expression. "They didn't. That's what's important, when you get down to it."

Jonouchi shrugged and made a noncommittal noise for an answer, but couldn't understand the gleam of pride in chocolate brown. For some reason it made him think of Yugi.

The crowds continued to flow around them. Jonouchi and Honda found the motorcycle race game and not long after and Anzu was watching Yugi go at a game of advanced Tetris against Bakura, Marik watching curiously and inserting the odd comment every so often.

"You do this a lot, don't you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jou saw the two other boys make absentminded affirmatives. Marik sighed. Wandered over to where he and Honda were riding the bikes, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Hey, you can have the next turn, if you like."

"You won't mind?"

Jonouchi shook his head. "You'd probably do better at it than I am. You said you had a bike, didn't you?"

He knew that he'd done the right thing when Marik's eyes lit up, followed shortly by Yugi facing him with a bright grin before turning his attention back to his competition.

"I'm . . . not very familiar with arcade games," the Egyptian admitted. "At the very least, not like these."

"It's not that hard to get the hang of," Honda said, explaining as they went. Over the next hour or so the gang switched and swapped their games, never separating too far from the rest of the group. It was near the end of their jaunt – they'd promised to meet back up at the Kame for what Yugi insisted on calling a council of war at around five o'clock – that Marik started insisting that he take Yugi up on a promise to a DDR battle. Jonouchi could only guess that it was to make up for the humiliation of losing to Anzu, but something unexpected was thrown in at the last minute. Just before he had gone back up onto the stage to face off against Yugi, he had been talking with Anzu and Bakura. Anzu had seemed amused. Bakura had not.

It was only after Marik's second dance (he won. Yugi upped his personal record, but was nowhere near his level, especially without the other Bakura picking fights. Jonouchi figured that the evil spirit couldn't bear to support his enemy even if it was humiliating someone else) that he got an explanation.

Marik was smirking as he strutted down off the stage, playfully hitting Bakura's shoulder as he went. The usually polite boy was heard giving a not-very heartfelt 'I hate you' before trading places with his friend. Anzu, a bemused and curious smile on her face, placed herself at the ready on the other DDR dance pad.

"You'll pay for this later, you know," Bakura said, sighing irritably. The music that started seemed to be slow, but the but promised to get faster quickly.

As Jonouchi watched, he glanced to his sides. Marik was eying the contest with a calculating stare as Bakura at first seemed only to watch what Anzu was doing before placing his feet on any of the pads. Yugi watched with open curiosity as the speed picked up, making their friend have to pick own moves. Honda stared seriously and Jou gulped as white hair started to fly, as Ryou forgot himself in the music.

_Damn_, he thought. _Damn. I was lucky not to get my arm busted up that time_. He had often watched Anzu (and the others) dance, whether he and the others had liked it or not. He'd seen her make improvised movements. The odd flick of her head, a sway of the hip or the unnecessary flinging of arms. It seemed to be some kind of weird habit.

But he'd also seen and been in a lot of fights. Even after, no – scratch that, especially after becoming friends with Yugi.

So kami knew he could recognize how someone moved if they were dangerous.

He gulped. Instead of the dancer's graceful gestures that Anzu made, his friend's training showed itself in a whistle of wind as an arm shot out to counter balance the move he'd made with his foot. Every so often, the mild mannered A student would get a twitch in his hand, or a jerk somewhere else that suggested an unfinished move. At some of the sharper steps he heard a faint jangle, a reminder of earlier that made him jump every time. The only thing that made him jump worse was that by the time the song had finished, white hair was even more unkempt than usual. What with bits of it practically standing up on end and his eyes having a strange gleam in them from the dance, it was only the fact that Bakura was laughing and joking that calmed his sore nerves.

"_Sugoii!_ That was amazing, Bakura!"

The fact that Yuge wasn't defining which one he was talking to didn't help.

"You really think so?"

"Yup!"

"You gave me a run for my money, Bakura. Where'd you learn to dance like that?"

A smile lit up brown eyes, and a hand ran through white hair with a laugh before Bakura spoke.

"The voice in my head told me how," he said in all seriousness.

Jonouchi's eyes widened before narrowing in frustration. He wanted to tell Yugi to get the hell away, that the other boy knew a hell of a lot more than just how to dance the DDR. But then again, would his best bud listen? Nope. Would he do anything about it? Nope. Jonouchi let a relaxed smile grace his face, knowing that Yuge probably knew all about anything worry-worthy, and if he'd deemed it a danger to his precious people, he'd have told them. One of the many mysteries of being his friend was that you just had to accept what he did. And in Yuge's eyes, even Kaiba Seto was A class 'friend' material.

_It doesn't matter what they've done, 'cause friendship is more than that. Past, present, future – none of them matter, so long as you trust in that other person_. He remembered Yugi saying that a long, long time ago. Or was it Yugi? He shook his head. It didn't matter.

* * *

Ishizu, Rishid and Sugoroku Mutou were waiting for them when they got back with serious looks on their faces. Marik felt Ryou beside him tense up slightly.

"Did you find anything useful?"

Ishizu shook her head. His sister and brother had told him that they were going to be looking for any evidence or proof that they weren't just being duped somehow. Apparently, the search hadn't gone so well. Marik sighed.

"We weren't able to find anything so far," Yugi's grandfather added, "but then again, we didn't look at the other side of the coin, either."

"The other side of the coin?" Anzu asked from behind him and closer to the Pharaoh.

Ishizu shared a look with Rishid. "We thought that it would be best if you were the ones who decided whether or not to follow the directions on the letters," she said.

Marik's eyes widened slightly before understanding the message behind the actions, and smiled.

"Thanks. I think we can take it from here. If Kaiba won't acknowledge their presence even as something to use against us and nothing can be found to contact them other than the directions on the letters themselves, then there isn't really anything more we can do on that front."

He sighed and turned to look seriously at not just Yugi and Ryou, but also Jonouchi, Honda and Anzu. "The next thing we do is decide."

"Decide what?"

Marik smirked. "Whether or not we're going, of course."

For a moment, he basked in the confusion that came with his simple statement, but had to continue when a disapproving cough came from one of the adults.

"It's simple, really," he said, his mind back on the topic at hand. "While we were still in Egypt, my letter told me to go to one place. But-" he went to lean against the wall. "But. The moment I got to Japan, we checked the letter again, and this time it showed me an address identical to the one Yugi told me of when we first talked about it.

"My _theory_ is that _if_ we decided to go, then it wouldn't matter which meeting place we went to – we'd still have to get to the place. Meaning that if the school is in England, there's bound to be new directions once we get there."

An uneasy silence permeated the room. Doubtless, it would be hard if they went, but in Marik's eyes harder still if they chose to stay. There was magic going on that he had no knowledge of; and he, Ishizu and Rishid were, no matter that they had done everything that they _needed_ to, still Tomb Keepers. It was still their duty to make sure that the Pharaoh regained his memories, and he couldn't do anything if his long-awaited host was killed.

"I. . . I don't know. I'd need to think. And talk."

Anzu put a hand on Yugi's shoulder, and the short Puzzle-bearer gave her a weak smile. Stares turned to Ryou Bakura, as the only one who had not yet put forth his opinion on the matter. Ryou closed his eyes, hand straying to his neck as he strove to find words.

"I don't really mind. That is, if Yugi-kun wanted to as well. I'm not – I'm used to moving schools a lot, and it _would_ be interesting. I wouldn't go if it meant leaving my friends, though."

"Hey, buddy." Jonouchi's hand clamped down on Yugi's free shoulder, startling him slightly. "We're your friends. This is your home. Some weird school someplace wouldn't change that. Doesn't matter whether you chose to go or not."

"It's all up to you, Yugi," Honda put in. "We'll be right behind you whatever you choose."

"But - ! It – it's so far _away_!"

"It's your choice, my boy."

Except it wasn't, and Marik could see that understanding in the poor boy's eyes. If he chose to go, then it meant that he had a duty to follow him. If he chose not to, then Ryou would never dream of leaving all of the friends he had made in Domino. It was Yugi's decision that everything hinged on.

The small duellist who had been named King of Duel Monsters and whose soul was shared with the King of Games looked distantly at the back of one of his hands, tracing a pattern with a finger. With a sigh, he let his hands drop and land on the top of the Puzzle. Slowly a look of resolve made itself clear on the previously nervous boy.

"We're going. If only to see what this is all about. I might choose to go back home after seeing the place we're supposed to go to in England. But I'm gonna look at the very least."

"Sounds good to me! When're we going?"

"_Jonouchi_! You aren't."

"An' why's that?"

"You can hardly speak Japanese, let alone English."

"Oi! I can too speak my own language! What's that got to do with things, anyhow?"

"Well, for one thing you wouldn't be able to understand anything. But wasn't Shizuka-chan supposed to be coming the day after tomorrow?"

"_Anzu_! That was mean. And low," Honda whined.

Anzu's brows rose into her hairline. "So would've been what you'd have done if he wasn't there."

Honda grimaced. "You got me."

"So. . ." Yugi trailed off, making the others switch their attention back to him. "Honda-kun and Jonouchi-kun aren't coming with?"

The two teens in question began to look decidedly sheepish with a hint of guilt. "Sorry, Yuge. We'll be with you in spirit. Besides, you'll need us back here if something decides that Domino didn't have its fair share of the big bads."

Marik _glared_.

"Present company forgiven."

"Thank you ever so."

Marik considered glaring just a bit more for good measure, but didn't when he saw the corners of Yugi's mouth twitching. He surprised himself by smiling.

"Anzu-chan?"

"I'm free," she said dryly. "I actually pay attention, and since I'm planning on going to America at some point, it'd be a great opportunity to get some practice in."

"This is all very well and good," his sister's voice said demurely, "But there are other things to be considered if we are truly are making the trip to England. Even if it will be for only a short number of days."

"What kind of things? I can't think of much-"

Ryou's polite tones were cut off by Ishizu's next, more severe words.

"_Ground rules_."

It was amazing, Marik thought distantly, just how much of a reaction one could get with just two words. Jonouchi swallowed hard and Honda paled slightly, taking a step back. Anzu did the same with a nervous laugh. Gold glinted and amber flashed in brown eyes while purple darkened slightly. Marik hid the urge to laugh outright, but his smirk disappeared when Yugi suggested that they go upstairs to discuss things among themselves without involving the others. The Tomb Keeper glanced anxiously at the white haired boy at his side as they followed Yugi up the stairs, but the Ring's spirit seemed not to notice, glaring as he was at his enemy's back.

"I'll tell you now, _Pharaoh_. I'm _not_ going to be doing whatever you say." Bakura had thrown himself onto Yugi's bed, lounging with a challenge in his eyes.

"I never expected that you would, Bakura-san. But Ishizu-san was right – we need to decide what is allowed and what isn't." Yugi himself had sat on the chair by his desk, and Marik was leaning against the wall near to the door.

"_I'll_ decide what I'm _allowed_ to do. No one tells me what to do!" A pale hand twitched.

"It's not all about _you_, you fool," Marik put in. "What would happen if someone noticed strange things following you? So far, you haven't got a criminal record-"

"_Criminal record?_ Bakura-san!"

"He said that I _don't_ have one."

"That's not the point! It's Bakura-kun's life!"

"I'll tell him that."

"_Like I was saying_." The other two their glares from each other to him. Marik continued as if nothing was different. "Domino is fairly used to strange things happening. If _we_ went somewhere else, people might start to put two and two together if events followed us."

"See? That's what I meant before, if you'd listened to me."

Bakura snorted.

"As if I'd ever choose to."

Marik groaned and hit his head with the palm of his hand. _This is impossible_, he thought. _They're just never going to talk without arguing_.

"Look, all I'm saying is that once we're out of Japan, we need to be more careful. No random comas, no monsters coming out of nowhere, no nothing-"

"Marik." Bakura's hand was twitching again, and this time at him. "I _am not_ just going to give up all of my power to satisfy your desire for secrecy. I don't care-"

"I was going to add 'except in dire emergency'." He snorted. "As if I'd think of going anywhere without some sort of backup. That'd just be stupid."

"And that worked _so_ well last time, didn't it?"

"Bakura-san. That was uncalled for."

"Well there never is any call for stupidity, is there?"

"Bakura!"

"_Keh_. Actually, I always _am_ careful when it comes to normal mortals. It doesn't help if I've got everyone watching me."

"So no Games or summoning unless it's an emergency. I can live with that if he can."

_Oh, _great_. Now Pharaoh-sama's out_. Slightly taller (although that might have something to do with the fact that he sat up straighter than Yugi ever did) and with lightning strikes in already pointy hair, crimson looked out from dark eyes.

Another twitch, and Bakura seemed to gain a tic in his right eye that his other never had. "If you weren't deaf, you would have heard me say that I could." Eyes narrowed and body tensed, the thief had stopped lounging and was now in a position easier to fight from.

"Then there is also going to be no mention of said power." The pharaoh glanced across the room. "We don't want anyone to find out – even these new 'wizards'."

"Well that's obvious. What are you going to tell us next, oh great Pharaoh? Not to trust the crocodiles in the Nile? That English weather is unpredictable?"

Marik winced slightly. _He . . . was kind of asking for that one_. The Pharaoh seemed to ignore his reaction however, in favour of a glare that quite clearly said _you know what I meant_ aimed at the one who had made the comment.

"Other than that, are we all agreed on that matter?" The Pharaoh had taken up a tone of superiority, annoying Marik and making the thief growl. Nevertheless, the Tomb Keeper nodded and, though with reluctance, Bakura also gave a sharp affirmative. _He's a stubborn, pig-headed fool, but he's not fully stupid_, Marik contemplated.

"Then I have something else to suggest."

Bakura was caught in the act of rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "You always have something to suggest."

"Did you want to hear it or not?"

"Actually not. But no doubt you're going to tell us anyway."

"And you'd better pay attention, because my idea means more for you than it does for me, I'm sure."

"Explain."

"I had thought that it would be better if, even in an emergency, any Games that might take place were approved of by at least one person."

". . . No."

A sardonic smile (or smirk) appeared on the Pharaoh. "I didn't say that you had to tell _me_."

"No still means no, you fool. What I do is my business, and nothing short of annihilation changes that."

"Baka. He _does_ actually have a point here, you know."

"Tell me one good reason why I should even listen to _you_."

"How about because if you for once listened to Ryou then you might blend in a little more? You stick out like a sore thumb, you know."

"That's the best you can do?" Bakura laughed. "You'll have to try harder than that."

"It's one of those _we don't want to get noticed_ things, Bakura!" The spirit of the Pharaoh was raising his voice. "If we talked to our others before playing possibly unnecessary Games, then better solutions might come to light!"

"He is not my 'other'! He is my host!" Marik's eyes narrowed as the spirit jumped up from his seat, but when the thief's foot connected with something big and open with golden things in it that _clunked_ when hit, his heart was suddenly doing flip-flops, a nervous lump had formed in his throat and all of a sudden was wishing that he had somewhere to back away, or even better yet, run to without causing suspicion.

It was like he was reliving his dream in his waking hours. Gold glinted seductively at him from the gym bag, creating a roaring in his ears that almost drowned out the incessant arguing of the other occupants of the room. Neither had heard the sound or paid him any attention. They were too caught up in their contest of wills.

"And you'd actually do that? Willingly humiliate yourself?"

"It wouldn't be a humiliation, thief. I always talk with Yugi."

_Just once. It's so close . . . to feel the power just once more. ._ .

"Then it's rather one-sided, wouldn't you say? Rather unfair if you ask me."

"Then it must be good that I _wasn't_ asking you."

_Ra, it wouldn't even leave the room. Just once . . . they surely wouldn't hate me for that, would they?_

"I _was_ under the impression that this _wasn't_ leading to my doing whatever you said, _Pharaoh_."

"This isn't about doing what _I_ say – it's about your doing – even just listening – to what your _other self_ says."

"Hypocrite! Liar!"

_How had it become so close so suddenly? Easily within his reach. He could feel the pull of the power. He only wanted them to stop shouting. It made his head hurt._

_Yugi had touched it. He hadn't activated the power, but it was there, latent, ready to be used. Idly he wondered whether Ryou and Yugi were getting headaches, too. For some reason it sounded louder when the sound was already in your mind._

Cold metal was grasped by his hand, golden glow bathing him in a light he hadn't seen for months. His mind suddenly seemed free again, questing out, reaching, gripping.

The power of the Millennium Rod caught and held Ryou Bakura and the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, Yugi Mutou and the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, the intent being to tear the lighter halves from those places they went while the body was occupied by their tenants and then throw the Rod back, hopefully before any further damage. To bring back some of the peace.

But good intentions never do win the day, and even those who truly think they understand their power can be surprised by something new. Even the best laid out plan could go awry with just a single rebellious action.

Marik knew all of this very well, but never would have expected what happened next.

Three golden flashes of light, the two previously possessed bodies dropping to the floor, visages of their true owners as what seemed to be a multitude of voices rushed in on Marik as he too felt knees touch carpet. Images, thoughts and feelings rushed in on him, lashing him with such ferocity that he clutched his head, Millennium Rod still in hand, as he collapsed to the floor in a faint.

* * *

**Moar notes**: Oh, what a terrible person I am. I do _so_ like cliff hangers. Do you like how I wrote Marik? I've taken inspiration from subbed anime and Wall of Illusion's fics. I hope he pleases. For those of you who think that I've been concentrating too much on Marik – never fear. There will be more Yugi and Bakura next chapter. Just re-reading this I realized that There was no 'yami' action in this chapter. Wierd for me.

In a response to someone's query, I'm not actually veering too far off the original events – just seeing how interesting life can get when they get stuck together, along with a writing device that I've just introduced which will change just about everything. There will be changes to both the original stories, but they're more likely to have a butterfly effect than an instant tornado. I like to stick, albeit loosely (very loosely), to canon.

By the way, what Jou remembered is basically what Yami Yugi told Shadi in Vol. three of the manga. Not exactly, but still...


	6. Don't Push the Panic Button

Don't push the panic button

_"And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody."__  
__"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is wilfully to misunderstand them."__ (Ch. 11) Pride and Prejudice_

**AN**: Hm... I had a lot of fun writing the first bits of this chapter, however backwards it may seem. Anou. . . If anyone recognizes just how Marik's behaving, then no, I'm not ripping anyone off, but do please go check out 'Choking' by Wall of Illusion. I based most of his reactions on that, save for a few (big) changes. Sugoroku (oh, how I hate that spelling) is referenced mainly off the manga. This chapter is dedicated to the author of 'New Powers from the Old Days', who both introduced me to HPYGO and also the thing I'm introducing in the chapter. Work it out for yourselves. It's not _that_ hard. I hope you like my 'explanation' for it, though.

Oh, yeah. For Marik, anything that should be in Arabic or Egyptian is in either English or Japanese 'cause I'm a lazy sod. Just like last chapter, 'Marik' is mostly pronounced 'Malik' in speech. Marik's how I spell it, so nyeeh.

**Fic Trivia**: I may have mentioned this before, but I mostly like to keep to the canon pairings. There are very few exceptions in my writing. In this fic there is: MaixJou, YugixAnzu, HondaxSerenity (Otogi's still flirting with her like in the manga right now, but I just can't see OtogixShizuka in my fic. Sorry, OtoShi fans.), as well as a few others I'll introduce as we go along. There is, however, one pairing that's going to remain my little mystery for as long as it takes to come out into the open. It's being planned in even this early, but won't come into effect for ages. One clue – I don't do shonen ai or any of that stuff. No offence or anything, but it's just not my thing.

* * *

As Ryou Bakura woke up, he slowly became aware of the dull ache in . . . everything. In a distant part of his mind he diagnosed it as being only the normal aches and pains of having landed badly after a fall, but for the life of him couldn't understand how he could have fallen that badly.

_This is ridiculous. I _know_ how to fall by now_. With a groan, he sat up, lifting an aching arm in an attempt to soothe a sore head. For some reason, his headache seemed not only to be the source of nearly all of his other pains, but had a familiar feel about it.

_All right. First things first. Surroundings_. His mind went into a kind of routine that he had developed ever since he had started to have yami-induced blackouts. It helped to lessen the panic when he woke up. Looking about him, he started. I'm _still in Yugi's room. I haven't even moved. Then. . . it must have been _me_ who fell_. Actually taking in what he was seeing, he swallowed hard. _Yugi. Marik. _They were both lying unconscious on the floor, Marik with his hands somewhere near his head. Bakura's eyes widened slightly at the new information – maybe he hadn't been the only one who had gone down with a headache. _I remember now. My head hurt, like voices, more voices than I could cope with. . ._

_Time. How long have I been out for?_ His mind worked through the shocks and continued its routine. Just as easy – a glance at Yugi's Kuriboh-shaped alarm clock told him that they'd been out for only half an hour. The sky was just starting to get dark.

_Last but not least - have I got anything I shouldn't?_ Quickly he ran a mental check about his person, making sure that nothing felt wrong. _Nothing_. The Ring felt heavier for some reason, but apart from that there was nothing out of the ordinary. _But he could have done anything. Why didn't he?_

Trying to get the spirit's door open proved not to be the best of ideas when, the moment his mental hand poked its way out of his soul room, there was an instant of _feeling, understanding, _knowing _too much._ Within seconds his door had slammed shut again, leaving only a normal amount of mental pain.

_What . . . the hell . . . was that?_

He prodded at the memories. There was shock and fear and pain, but not just physical but also the pain of exactly what he was going through and the pain of other things as well. There were silences as well, but they didn't retract from the sheer mass of noise. It made Bakura want to put earmuffs of some kind on, so that he'd at all be able to think for himself.

The last thought made him start, surprised and fearful. _If it's not just my thoughts . . . if it's not mou hitori no boku – if he's as locked into his room as I am in mine . . . then whose thoughts _am_ I hearing? And . . . how did they get there?_

Yugi. Marik. On the floor. Marik; Millennium Rod in hand.

_Oh. Damn_.

If what he was guessing was correct – and he was rarely wrong, although he liked to ignore things he didn't like the sound of – then it was _Yugi_ and _Marik_ and even worse the _other Yugi_ in his head and he was in so much trouble because he'd betrayed them so many times and if they ever found out – ever – then they'd hate him and he didn't want that and oh _God_, they'd find out that he'd stolen from them, that he'd let the spirit steal and he hadn't given it back and that was just as bad because he'd let him, he'd know, Yugi would-

He had to get away.

Standing with legs that felt like jelly and lead at the same time he hauled himself to his feet, heading towards the door with as much speed as his unbalanced body and mind would allow him. Down the stairs, supported by the wall. Out of the door, ignoring the cries of confusion coming from Ishizu, Rishid and Yugi's grandfather.

He ran home.

* * *

As Marik came to, all that he could make sense of was that there was a pain in his head that wouldn't go away and that he was waking up and that something had gone wrong.

Yugi was just over there; unconscious, hair streaming every which way. His frantic mind didn't even take the time to see that the Pharaoh's vessel was still breathing, even twitching. No – all he saw was the still form lying there hopelessly on the floor.

Bakura was gone, not a trace left that he had even graced the room.

And all the while the Millennium Rod lay in his hand, gold winking for any who wished to look, deceivingly benign.

_No. No!_

He'd done with a mistake what had taken a lifetime of hatred. Destroyed everything he loved and held important to him. _My friends . . . !_

His head hurt, perhaps even worse than it had only twice in his life before. He was drowned in a wave of fear and sadness and hatred and _Ra save me – what have I done!?_

He didn't hear, didn't even see the worried forms of Ishizu and Rishid as they tried to approach him or Sugoroku Mutou as he went deliberately up to his grandson's room. He merely half-ran, half-walked away from what he had done, before he hurt anyone else. His head hurt as he clutched at it, hoping with despair that if he got far enough away before _it_ happened again, more people would be spared. . .

He never realized that he still carried the Rod in his hand.

* * *

Sugoroku Mutou was not generally thought to be a dangerous sort of man. In his younger years he might have been known as a terror at the card tables, but nowadays he usually wasn't quite so fear-inspiring. But when two boys who both had either nefarious counterparts or had in the past had all but torn out of his house like a pair of tornadoes with a Blue-Eyes ready to White Lightning their tails, he knew something was wrong. And when his grandson still hadn't come out of his room himself, instincts had started to kick in with a stab of adrenaline and fear.

"_Yugi_!"

He didn't know what he expected. A call to say that everything was all right? An annoyed shout? _Something_.

Instead he got nothing.

When he stepped through the door into Yugi's room, he expected chaos. An epicentre of destruction, maybe.

All he saw was his grandson lying limply in front of his desk

"_Yugi_ – Yugi, are you all right?!"

He was rewarded with a groan, and the last of the Item holders awoke, propping himself up on an elbow.

"_I-itai_, Jii-chan. It _hurts_."

"What does?" He went over and knelt, holding the boy in his arms. "What happened?"

A small hand went up to pointed spikes. "My head. It . . . everything." The boy's free hand went to the Puzzle around his neck. "I can't get through to him. It hurts more when I try." He looked around, suddenly worried. "Where's Marik-kun? Bakura-kun? The other me and the other Bakura were arguing, so much I couldn't get a word in edgeways. Then I saw Marik-kun and there was gold and I was falling. He . . . I think he did something." Yugi swallowed. "It went wrong."

Sugoroku went very still. "How do you know that?"

Yugi laughed hoarsely. "I don't think that he meant for this to happen, Jii-chan." Then he went very quiet, closing his eyes so that he looked calm; the picture of serenity instead of the pain he had to be going through. "I don't . . . know, really. I just _do_. I didn't think. It was like I knew it, but I was told, and there was all this fear and pain with it . . ."

Yugi got up onto wobbly feet. One hand still held the Puzzle.

"Where did they go? Marik – he's so scared!"

Should he tell Yugi about what he had seen? How his friends Bakura and Marik had just high-tailed it out of here? He sighed. If what thought was true was true, no matter how implausible, then the boy would find out without him having to tell him. He'd prefer hearing what had happened rather than the other way.

"Yugi, Bakura-kun and Marik-kun aren't here." He allowed himself an amused smile. "They left running for some reason just before I came up here to see how you were."

His grandson's eyes widened in worry. "But Marik-kun-! Where's Ishizu-san and Rishid-san?"

"They were going out after Marik the last time I saw them."

"Not back to the hotel?"

"Should they?"

"He knows where it is – that, and it's where home, _family_ is to him. Safety."

"I'll tell them that, then. They've both got cell phones, so it shouldn't be too hard to contact them." He looked at his grandson with very serious eyes. "Are you sure that you don't know _how_ you know?" _Careful . . ._

"Anou . . . I don't _know_. I just _felt_. I just – it was like there was this jumble of emotions and thoughts and feelings and stuff, and there's just too much in there. The last time I felt like this, was before . . . before-" Yugi cut himself off with a surprised look, big eyes going even wider in shock and confusion. "Before I could speak with mou hitori no boku properly," he finished, trailing off. "But – does that mean – what _does_ that mean, Jii-chan?"

Sugoroku sighed. "To be honest with you my boy, I don't know myself, really. Only what you've just told me."

"Then what did _you_ understand?"

"That you said that your friend Marik had used Millennium Magic," he said gently. "You said that something had gone wrong. From what I'd imagine that boy saw before he ran out of here, I'd guess that he thought he did much worse than what actually happened."

Enveloping his grandson in a hug, he went back down the stairs to find the phone to reassure Ishizu and Rishid, and hope that his hunch was more than just a hunch, that Yugi's strangely gained information was accurate, even if it meant adding even more strangeness to their lives.

* * *

By the time he got home, Bakura had gained cramps in his legs and arms for going so hard after a fall and a thirty-minute blackout. His head was still pounding, but he tried his best not to pay attention to either the discomfort or the knowledge that went with it. Stumbling through his hall, he collapsed in his room, sitting hunched down with his back against the wall and with his eyes closed.

The Ring dug into him through his shirt. He still had it, and a part of him didn't care – didn't care about the power, didn't care about the fact that it was the last thing that his father had truly given to him, didn't care that he had stolen it back from Yugi-kun, and things would probably be better if he just gave it back. None of this would have happened if he'd just left it lying there all those weeks ago. But he hadn't been able to. He'd needed the answer to the 'why'. And when he'd got the answer, he just hadn't been able to let go. . .

"Oi. Get up."

_Wha-!?_ He looked up, startled and still not used to the voice in his head becoming more than that. The incorporeal spirit was leaning against his bedroom door frame, just like he had whenever he appeared from the soul room corridor. As fascinated by the occult as he was, it always (not that he would ever tell anyone else) sent shivers down his spine to see what was basically a reflection of himself so. . . transparent.

"Oi. Didn't you hear me, Yadonoushi? I said get up. You look pathetic."

(But-)

The spirit snorted disgustedly. "At least you could _try_ to look like you aren't going to be slaughtered. It makes my stomach turn for some reason."

_But – he doesn't even have a stomach right now._ The thought made him laugh.

"I heard that."

Bakura stopped smiling. It wasn't just because the threat in the spirit's voice, though – the usually unruffled thief and stealer of souls had let more emotion out than he ever had. A whisper of pain, suffering and hate had caught him for a moment before being snatched back.

"You know what happened." It wasn't a question, just a statement.

(Marik did something. He never should have gone back so close, but-)

"I don't care about the life story, Yadonoushi. I'm not going to listen to you whine."

Bakura swallowed and took a deep breath. (Our minds. Something went wrong with what Marik did, and now me, you, Yugi, the other Yugi and Marik . . . we're linked, aren't we?)

"Keh. You just think?" And the casual smirk was back, fangs and all. As if nothing had happened. "You should check your _other_ room." Turning away slightly, the spirit muttered, just loudly enough to be heard. "The one time I want an Item for something other than the raw power, and the blasted priest's nowhere to be found. . ." Noticing the lighter boy staring at him, he consequently vanished into his own soul room.

Ryou sighed and made himself comfortable before willing himself into the room that had been created by no greater and no lesser power and magic than his own personality.

He immediately knew that something was wrong. It wasn't just the fact that he could see something there that had never been there before, but also the unwavering feeling of _weird_ and the dizzying sensation of _I didn't put that there_.

In the wall opposite to the door, against which stood the desk on which he wrote his letters and around which were 'photographs' of friends and family alike, was a –

Window.

Perfectly proportioned to the rest of his room, it was a simple rectangle of empty space where wall should have been. With the rough beginnings of a blue framework to match the walls, it had an oddly unfinished air about it, but a resolutely stubborn feeling infiltrated its entirety with the notion that it _would_ get finished, sooner or later.

Somewhere between confusion, wonder and horror, Bakura walked over to the tear in his soul room wall.

Looking out – for what else are windows for? – his eyes widened.

There, as he looked out, were three other windows. All looked unfinished, rough, newly made. Two of them had an old, ancient feel about them, enhanced by the roughly-hewn stone from which they had been made. One however, had patterns seemingly carved into it; intricate designs of labyrinthine mazes. _That one has to be Pharaoh-san's. Yugi-kun's is the brightly-coloured one, and Marik's must be that one there – the one with hieroglyphs on the mantel and the backs of picture frames facing me from inside the room_. If he looked straight through Marik's window and into his room, an old-style version of the god Ra was carved deeply into the place where, in his own room, stood the door to the soul corridor between his room and the spirit's.

With cautious curiosity, he looked around for a fourth window.

((Mine's not there.)) The voice made him freeze, head half stuck out of the hole in his wall. ((You'd probably be able to see mine if you went out of your room and looked through mine. I'd guess it's the same for the rest of them.))

Oh_. Never mind . . ._

((Now get off your lazy ass. I don't want that body to have cramps in it next time I need it. And you'd better get some sleep – I wouldn't want it fainting, either.))

* * *

When Ishizu had first received the call from Mutou-san that her brother would be going back to the hotel room where she and Rishid were staying, she hadn't waited to hear any more. She had immediately gone back to the car, hoping to get there before her little brother did, to be there waiting for him.

She had been shocked when he finally did appear. Not by the Item he still carried – she had seen that as he'd left the Mutou's – but by the way he walked, the look in his eyes. He was worse than upset. He was in despair. It was worse than before he had left the tombs that had been his home, worse than the times after Battle City. She had gone to him without thinking, but he hadn't even seemed to see her. Or Rishid.

He had all but locked himself in one of the rooms and hadn't come out since.

Now, here she was, pacing the main room, nerves eating away at her as she worried. Rishid was sitting at the table, face neutral and calm as ever, but she could read his emotions only as one other person could. He was just as worried as she was, just not showing it.

Minutes ticked by. Silence permeated the hotel rooms, broken only by Ishizu's footsteps and the clock on the wall. Finally, Rishid's chair screeched back as he stood. A frown had appeared on his face.

"I'm going to check up on him."

"I'm going with you."

Rishid didn't say anything, only nodded once.

The door opened, letting them see Marik lying haphazardly on top of the unslept-in bed, Rod not far from his fingertips, just touching. He looked as though he had hardly moved, but as soon as he heard the creak of the door, he sat up, backing away from them defensively.

"Don't come near me!"

"But Marik-sama -"

"You don't know what I've done!"

Rishid firmly set himself and walked calmly over to where her little brother was and sat down beside him. "_Marik-sama_. I'm here. I know what happened." Marik's eyes widened in terror. "But I'm _here_, Marik-sama. It was Mutou-san who told us what happened, and the young Pharaoh who told him where we might find _you_."

"_Wha- ?_ But – he's . . . I _did_ something."

Ishizu nodded solemnly. "The simple fact that 'something' happened does not mean that the worst happened, brother."

"But _Ryou_. He was _gone_."

His wild eyes were darting first from his brother and then to his sister.

"Marik-sama, we saw Bakura-san come out of the Mutou's not long before you."

"But it doesn't make _sense_! I _did_ something, and then I wake up and it's dark and my _head hurts_."

Ishizu and Rishid shared a look. They both knew all too well what Marik would instinctively attribute to head pains of the non-physical sort.

"You're fine, brother. I do not know for certain what is happening, but I _am_ fairly certain that if anything of that sort _were_ to occur, unlikely as it is, it wouldn't be restricted to only two people."

Slowly, a red flush of embarrassment worked its way up to Marik's face as realization set in.

"I'm a fool. An arrogant, self-important fool . . ."

"Marik, that's no way to talk. Everyone makes mistakes."

Marik's hands went up to his head in frustration.

"I should have _told_ you. I thought it would have been easier for you if you didn't know, but everything went wrong anyway. . ."

"It's all right," Ishizu said softly as she went to him. "It's all right." She put an arm around his shoulders. "We're all still here. We're still with you, little brother. . ."

* * *

Yugi was, to put it lightly, in a bit of a state. He had few comforts that actually helped, one of which being that he had started being able to talk to his other self not long ago, but even then the Pharaoh had no idea what was going on, and was as confused as he was, with the same pain. It wasn't often that he didn't have any answers at all, and the fact that he was going through exactly the same as him at the same time relieved and worried him.

He knew that he was worrying both Jii-chan and Kaa-chan, but he couldn't help it. Especially when – he suspected, at least – most of the fear and pain he was going through wasn't even his. It was bad enough for Kaa-chan that he was going to be moving so far away, and his new problems only made things worse for her.

He couldn't sit still. He'd debated going out, but it was dark and neither his grandpa nor his mother would let him out this late, spirit or no spirit.

Things had started slowly, oh so slowly, to get easier. Not by much, but it wasn't as bad as it had been however many hours ago when the whole fiasco had started.

Maybe it _was_ quieter. Or _maybe_ the others were calming down. He didn't really know, and didn't have any way of knowing.

It was late when he finally found sleep, collapsed on top of his bed.

The next morning, he was awoken by his alarm clock.

_Damn_. He yawned, then sighed. No _getting back to sleep now. . . At least Jii-chan let me off helping him in the shop, anyway_.

Belatedly, he got up and dressed, infinitely envious of spirits who didn't need to pay any heed whatsoever to annoying alarm clocks.

An hour later and dressed in his usual uniform, the phone rang, and he realized with a groan that in all of the mental aches and pains, he had developed a splitting headache of the more mundane sort. _Gah. Make it shut up. Whoever it is, I just don't care_.

-/What if it's –?/-

/Don't care. Tired and it still hurts./

The Pharaoh sighed. -/I could answer for you./-

/And I'd tell Kaa-chan what when she walks in? 'Oh, I just had a short bout of puberty' ?/ Yugi shook his head. /No. Thanks, but I think I'll sit this one out./

-/All right . . ./-

/Thanks anyway, though./

-/I'm always here, aibou./-

Yugi giggled. /In a way you always have been, mou hitori no boku. Only now I've got some other people who're with me as well./ Sobering up slightly, he added, /You haven't got anything new, have you?/

-/Not really, no. Not unless you didn't already know that the other Bakura's a pain in the backside. He's somehow blocked off the real Bakura's mind from me. All I've learnt from that is that Ryou was a part of all that fear when his part suddenly stopped. I don't know why./-

/Well, it would make sense. After all, he's spent the last few years putting up defences. He's bound to –/

"_Hey, Yuge! How about someone picking up, huh? At least tell us what's been going _on_, man_."

/Jonouchi-kun . . ./

"Young man, was that the answer phone I just heard? That could have been a customer!"

Yugi grimaced at the shout coming from across the hallway. "Sorry, Jii-chan. I've got a -"

"Headache, yes, I know. I'll see if I can find some aspirin; it won't help much with the other side of things, but it _might_ help . . ."

* * *

In apartment number 601, the phone was ringing, but unlike in the upstairs of the Kame game shop, the (almost) sole occupier was the one holding the handset to his ear, pacing to and fro in his living room.

_Please pick up, please pick up, please please please . ._ .

Ryou Bakura's grip on the phone tightened as he counted the rings. _Four rings, five rings, si-_

"_Moshi-moshi_, Bakura James speaking of Domino Museum, how can I help you?"

For what seemed like a small eternity, Ryou just held the phone limply to his ear. For the first time in four years, he was hearing his father's voice.

"Hello? Are you still there?" His hand trembled. "I hope this isn't just a prank, because I happen to be a busy man, and-"

"Tou-san?"

For a long time there was silence on the other line. A clunk, a scuffle and a sharp intake of breath that suggested that the other speaker had dropped his phone and rapidly picked it back up.

"Ryou? Is that you? Oh, kami-sama – is that my boy?"

"It-it's me, Tou-san."

This time a half-strangled sob shattered the silence, making him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

"Wh-where are you? Are you all right? Is – is anything wrong? –"

"No, nothing's wrong," he reassured his father, knowing that his weariness belied his words. He didn't think that many of his friends had been able to sleep very much last night. For a moment he was glad that his father couldn't see him to sense the slight shiver that came at the thought of just _how_ he knew. "Tou-san. I called because –" a deep breath "– I'm coming back to England."

Mutual silence. Which was only to be expected, of course. Ever since Ryou had first left home after receiving the Millennium Ring he had never ever told his father where he was or where he would be going next in those few means of communications they had kept open. The younger's finances were dealt with in such a way that neither actually had to deal with the other unless some sort of unforeseen emergency occurred, and although Ryou knew his father's telephone number, it was one used for work, and this was the first time he had ever used it.

He had _had_ to be careful. So many of his friends had suffered just because they knew him, wanted to be his friend. Only once Yugi had appeared on the scene had things started to get better, look brighter. Even now, he saw a blessing in the confusion his mind had been tossed unceremoniously into. If things went bad again, if the Spirit decided to just take over his host or start up a new collection of dolls, Yugi would know. He'd come.

He had to keep faith in that.

"If you need me," his father was saying carefully, "for anything, any reason at all, you only need to do is say the word and I'll be there. No matter what."

"I-I . . ." he worked his way past the block in his throat, past the heat and sting in his eyes. "I want to see you again."

Not the desperation of someone in danger. Nothing truly out of the ordinary. Just the grief and loneliness of a child who had been without his father for four long years.

". . .I'll be there. Wherever. When are you leaving?"

"You know what? I'm not sure. A couple of days at the most, though. It's going to be busy."

"You'll be able to find some time once you're there, won't you?"

"I'll make sure of it. I – I'm going to be going to a boarding school of sorts, I think. There . . . there might be a couple of my friends . . ." He wasn't sure whether Yugi and Marik still wanted to go along, but he certainly did still. If Yugi hated him for what he must now know, then it would be the perfect place to go to. As if he could just ignore the opportunity to learn _wizard_ magic.

"Maybe I'll get to meet them."

"Maybe . . ."

* * *

Anzu was frowning as she entered the Kame game shop, , barely registering the tinkle of the bell above the door as she went in.

She looked around, but couldn't find what she was after. After not much deliberation, she scowled even further, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot.

"Yugi! _Yugi-kun!_"

There was a startled clatter, a confused bump and a head of spikes stuck out from behind the counter. A smile nearly weakened her resolve to be stern.

"_Itai_, Anzu-chan."

Anzu leaned her arms against the counter, foot kicking back playfully, but the expression on her face was anything but. "Yes, I know you've got a headache. Your grandpa told me. What he couldn't tell me was why you've been avoiding everyone! Do you know how many times we've tried to call you? Or Bakura-kun?" She held up a hand to stall his questions when he opened his mouth to speak. "I think it's safe to say something happened between the three of you – otherwise _someone_ would have been able to tell us _something_, rather than keeping us all in the dark!" Frustrated, she huffed at a loose strand of hair in her eyes. "It's just not like you, Yugi."

"I _know_." Yugi somehow managed to set the stool back up and himself onto it. He rubbed at his head, the image of frustrated confusion. "I know, Anzu-chan. But something _did_ happen, and it wasn't _his_ fault, but now everything's all muddled and it's all so _confusing_."

Anzu softened her glare. "What happened? I want to help, Yugi. We all do."

And so he told her everything. From what the three (or five) of them had been first discussing, then simply arguing about, to the strange way they'd all fainted, to when he'd woken up to Jii-chan calling him frantically, to when things had started to calm down and his thoughts had become composed enough for him to think of watching the shop. It was hard to take in. This was her friends she was talking about, for kami's sake! Not some kind of weird gaijin science fiction plot.

"So . . . you're telepathic now?"

Yugi shook his head with a swing of multi-coloured spikes. "Not really. I don't know. It's more complicated than that. None of us really understand how it works yet."

". . . Then why don't you talk about it together?"

Yugi threw his arms up in the air in frustration, nearly unseating himself when he almost lost his balance.

"It's not that simple! Marik-kun's better now. Like me. He really panicked at first, but Ishizu and Rishid helped him realize that – that things were still okay. But _neither_ of us have heard from Bakura! The other me says that the Spirit of the Ring put up some kind of mental barrier, but though that's good in it's own way, it _also_ means that me, Mark and the other me don't know how Bakura-kun is! Or even _where_!"

Anzu couldn't help but confess to herself that it hurt, to see Yugi like this. Yugi was supposed to be happy, bouncy, always seeing something new to be cheerful about, bright eyes lighting up the room and never staying still for a moment. The Yugi in front of her was fidgeting, not bouncing. The happy, cheerful aura that always seemed to permeate him had been mostly been displaced by a continual worry, and there was a muted pain in his eyes. Not for himself, but for the others. An anger at himself for not being able to do anything.

It was a change she recognized all too well – it had happened increasingly over the past year. When the people around him were hurt, and he thought he was to blame, or that their fate rested on him and him alone. Which _had_ actually been the case a number of times. In her opinion, those kinds of things shouldn't be put on anyone's shoulders.

"I don't even know if he's at _home_. . ."

His voice had faded to a near whisper, but Anzu found herself smiling. _At least I can help with_ this_,_ she thought.

"We know he's at home," she said dryly. "Or at the very least, he was before I left the house. I was ringing him as well, you know, and each time I got through the machine told me the number was busy. I guess he was talking to someone else." She frowned. "Which is weird, because I was with Jou and Honda, and no one tried to call him at the same time as me."

Yugi smiled lopsidedly. "Wasn't me. Not Jii-chan either – he's been busy trying to keep Kaa-chan from figuring out why a meeting with friends turned out going so wrong."

"So you still haven't told her?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. She thinks that these kinds of things are myths and goose-chases," he said softly. "I wouldn't want to worry her."

It was that that made up her mind.

"I'll go check up on Bakura-kun for you. You'll talk with Marik about this?"

"Yup. Thanks, Anzu-chan. I-"

"It's nothing," she said, waving it off. "He's my friend too."

_Anything to make you smile again, Yugi-kun . . ._

* * *

Marik fidgeted in his seat. He was back (they all were) in Yugi's room at the top of the Kame game shop. This time, Yugi was sitting cross-legged on his bed, while Ryou was kicking his legs nervously under the chair by Yugi's desk. He himself had a piece of carpet close to the desk, his back leaning against the wall. The Millennium Rod was in a cargo pants pocket, the weight oddly comforting and completely familiar. He wasn't sure whether or not to let his hand wander down to it or not. He'd been told that he was trusted with it for now, but he still took care. It wouldn't help if someone thought that he was getting to attached to it when he would undoubtedly have to give it back to its rightful owner as soon as this mess had cleared up.

Which was why they were here now. Hopefully, somehow, all of this was going to get explained. Now that he wasn't in a panic, wasn't exhausted and at his wit's end, now that he was calmer and things had had a chance to settle down, he felt it. The same way that he suspected the others did. It reminded him of the strange link the Rod had made to what he had called his 'mind slaves' while he had headed the Ghouls, except there were no control issues here. He could feel, in a detached sort of way, a bubble of innocent determination that said 'Yugi' to all of his senses. The Pharaoh was there too, as were Ryou, hurt by the past but fiercely strong and loyal, and the Spirit of the Ring, a fainter sense of hard hatred and scarred strength. Marik briefly wondered what he felt like to the others before Yugi spoke, a residual echo still in effect.

"Anou . . . we know why we're here. We don't know what happened last time. Or why. I'm not blaming anyone, and I don't want any of that from anyone else or this is all just going to go out the window quicker than you could say 'Blue-Eyes'. We want facts, not opinions. At least, not the kind of opinions that can't be backed up at all. I don't care who says anything – just that we get everything into the open."

At first, no one said anything. It was a nervous and embarrassed silence, held down by the fact that whoever said something first knew that what they said would be known, concrete, fact. Marik had a number of guesses already, and was about to open his mouth when a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Keh. It was the bloody _Puzzle's_ fault any of this happened in first place, you know."

Everyone looked at Ryou, but the boy at the desk was just as shocked as the rest of them.

Over by the door, insubstantial as air and as see-through as the window onto the sky was Bakura. Marik looked first at one pale boy with white spikes, and then at the other.

_He's never been able to do _that_ before_, Marik thought dryly. He was just as startled when the spirit's head snapped over to him.

"I've always been able to do this, you fool. And keep your voice down. You're shouting."

Marik's eyes narrowed, ready to retort, but Yugi cut across him.

"Bakura-san. What did you mean?"

Bakura looked disgustedly as though he was teaching five-year olds. "I came out of soul room and spoke. You _should_ know how it's done."

"I meant the – what you _said_, Bakura-san."

Amber eyes turned to a half-hearted glare and he gestured with his head over to where Ryou was. "You told the Yadonoushi the so-called power of the Puzzle. Don't tell me you've forgotten that as well."

"Unity," Yugi said, sounding confused still.

The spirit rolled his eyes, a wave of frustrated impatience seeping through whatever mind block he'd thought up for himself.

"I think that I understand," Marik said, eyes narrowed in thought. "You mean that when I did what I did, the Puzzle somehow reacted and drew us all together."

"Basically."

But a wave of natural curiosity was already coming from Yugi, finding voice in the words; "What _did_ you do, Marik-kun? I mean, what you meant to do."

Marik's hand, which had been wandering innocently back to his cargo pocket, snatched itself away in hopes of no one noticing it. Marik's face grew an embarrassed red, and he coughed once.

"I was just going to switch you," he said, speaking only to Yugi. "They were arguing so much I could hardly think."

At first, his statement was taken without a word said, not counting the irritation coming from the Bakura by the door. Then he felt something unexpected, followed by it's physical sound counterpart in the real world. _Yugi's . . . laughing?_ He stared in open amazement at the other boy's reaction, infected far enough that he just had to smile. An amused smirk was coming from the Pharaoh, and soon the Ryou by the desk was giggling too.

"Great way of curing a headache, Ishtar."

Ryou snorted, but for once came to his defence. "It's hardly as though Marik knew what was going to happen."

"So that means it's my fault, does it?"

"I didn't _say_-"

"Why would it be your fault?"

Marik jumped, as did Ryou. Like Bakura, the Pharaoh was now half-invisible, standing halfway between Yugi on the bed and Ryou by the desk; strategically placed in case a certain someone lost his temper or his control. It was surprising how solid the eyes looked.

Yugi sighed. "Mou hitori no boku, please don't fight."

Lighting strikes turned kindly to his mortal host, an amused smirk in place. "I wasn't trying to. Just curious as to what 'Bakura' has to say."

"I don't _have_ anything to say to you."

"Oh." Ryou looked innocent, affronted, disappointed, but overall to Marik's new senses, downright devious. "That's a shame. Because if we knew something important – like how all this started – we _might_ be able to do something about it." He sighed dramatically and then turned wide, innocent eyes toward his other self. "But if you were withholding something, just because you were talking to the wrong person. . ." another sigh and a sad shake of the head. ". . . that _would_ be tragic, wouldn't it?"

Bakura spluttered and raged. He cursed and he swore. But through it all, Ryou didn't so much as twitch. By the end of his tirade, the spirit was left glaring weakly (as in not working, not that he wasn't trying). After a minute, he muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

Ryou sent a warning look over to the two Yugis to not say anything before saying in a singsong voice; "I'm sorry, but I didn't hear that."

"Seven hells, Yadonoushi! _Dammit_." He glared at some point out of the window as he explained. "The Puzzle. There's a part of my soul in one of the Puzzle pieces."

Yugi's eyes widened in disbelief and shock. The Pharaoh's red stare turned downright murderous, reminding Marik of the old saying 'if looks could kill'.

"_You . . . did . . . what?!_"

"It . . . it was at Otogi-kun's, wasn't it?" Ryou had been just as shocked as the others at first, but had quickly recovered. At Marik's blank look, he explained. "Otogi-kun's father tricked Yugi-kun into a game of Dungeon Dice Dragons against Otogi-kun. Partway through, he somehow took the Puzzle apart." Ryou looked over at Yugi to make sure he was getting everything right. "I kind of woke up after everything finished, but I gather 'I' helped Yugi win, then gave him back . . . some of . . . the pieces. . ." He trailed off as they realized what exactly had happened, but shook his head to dispel the guilt and anger at himself. "What's done is done. We can't change what's happened, only what we do about it."

Bakura's head snapped up. "So you mean if I can somehow drag that piece of me back, I can get his royal pain in the ass out of my head?"

"Don't think it's that simple."

The spirit's eyes narrowed in suspicion and fear. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you're being egotistical again, stupid. It's not all about you."

"Oh, and I suppose it's all about you, then?"

Marik snorted. "I doubt it. But if any of this does have to do with people's souls not being where they belong," he took the Rod out of its pocket and waved it in front of him, "then it's not just you; it's you, Ryou, me and possibly Yugi as well – if he wasn't already involved, that is. That accounts for all of us, including our _friend's_ stint into our Pharaoh's mind."

"But. . ."

"Yes, Yugi?"

"Two things, really. One is – If it was linked to all that and the Rod like you said, why wasn't anyone else involved? Why was it just us? Jonouchi-kun and Anzu-chan could've-"

"The Keeper was trying something that included us five only. The mutt and the cheerleader weren't even here."

Marik sent an arch look at his some-time ally. "I happen to respect those two, thief."

Bakura didn't say anything in return, just snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Number two," Yugi continued, "is – how did _I_ get caught up in the _Rod_?"

All eyes turned to Marik, corporeal or not.

Faintly, as if the voice was carried by wind, he heard someone who wasn't speaking and jumped.

-/That's a good question, Marik./-

"The – the truth is," he stuttered, still in slight shock at hearing the other Yugi's mental voice through their new link, "I don't – I'm not sure. I handed it to you on the Battle Ship, and even though – that is, despite my giving it to you – there must have been some kind of latent . . ."

"Signature?" Ryou chipped in. "Like, the next time someone picked it up to _use_ it, it would actually recognize Yugi?"

Marik nodded, registering the semi-relieved feel of the kings of games. Another whisper was carried across to him, but at least this time he was more ready for it and less likely to jump out of his skin. /I'm glad it wasn't on purpose. . ./

"Y-Yugi? Di-did you just-?"

/Just what?/

"Yugi, that's mean!"

"What's going _on?_"

Bakura only smirked, highly amused.

(I think we have a five-way mental link, Marik.) Marik turned to Ryou, but the boy's mouth wasn't moving and he was smiling carefully. Yugi was grinning openly, and by now the Pharaoh had gone back to wherever it was he went. Bakura was still smirking. (You try just sending one of us a thought. It isn't hard.)

Oh. So that's what it was. Well, at least he had just as much – if not more – experience as them _here_ . . .

Like this, you mean?

Bakura finally gave in to laughter, and disappeared before announcing his continued presence with a resounding ((Boo!)), making the others jump slightly.

-/So I suppose this means we're not going to sort it out?/-

Certainly looks that way, Marik thought amusedly. Besides, if we can hone it, it could get to be an advantage.

/Awesome!/

(No pranks, Yugi-kun. We'll be going there to _learn_.)

Where's Rabbit-Ears, anyway? I thought he _didn't_ want the Pharaoh in his head. No offence.

-/None taken./-

(. . . I think he's still laughing his head off at the faces you made, Marik.)

_Damn bastard_.

Ryou cleared his throat in an attempt to draw attention away from his other self. "Maybe we should go back down and tell everyone that everything is all right? After all, we spent all day figuring this out, and we've still got to _pack_."

"You're kidding me. Please tell me you're kidding me." Marik groaned and leaned heavily back on the wall. "How long have we got?"

"Well, I think we've got about a week and a half. Before they expect a reply, that is."

-/That means we've got a week and a half to get to England, find the meeting point there and decide if we really are going to attend. Aside from the fact that we don't know how to give them their reply./-

"He's got a point," Ryou said softly. "And if we do decide to go, we're still going to need to find the things on the list."

"And even if we don't like it there," Yugi said, jumping up from the bed and onto the floor, "we still get a holiday!"

Ryou absently kicked one of the chair legs, stood and started for the stairs.

"I – I've got to get ready. Things I have to do." He paused, but didn't look back. "Marik – I still have all of your things. You can still stay over for the night if you want."

And he was gone.

* * *

AN: _Arrrgh!_ runs from screaming mobs of angry fans wanting more HP in a HP fic Okay. I do have at least this for you – Diagon Alley next chapter. I hope I haven't put ya all off with all that talk of headaches (it annoyed me, and I wrote it) but I wanted to give the impression of someone getting too much info into their head all at once. I think the last bit's kinda weird . . . but that might just be me. . . I'd intended to draw out the last bit where they discover the 'five way mind link'. Didn't work and everything happened faster than I'd expected, so you got what you got.

Ryou's dad was inspired by Lizeth's 'Cat's Cradle' and pieces of 'Is This Normal?' which are incomplete (glares at favourite artist) but enough to work from and make my own ideas. Ryou Bakura's called 'Ryou' in that scene 'cause it'd be too complicated if we had two 'Bakura'. (Ryou and his father).


	7. The Most Dangerous Thing

The Most Dangerous Thing

_It's a dangerous business, going out your door. _

_You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to. __**Bilbo Baggins, Lord of the Rings**__._

**AN**: Before anyone reads this, let me explain that I've never even been in an airport once, especially not a Japanese one. I'm just guessing and stealing ideas from movies and a show called _Airport_ voiced over by Tony Robinson from Time Team. Plus a lot of imagination. I feel sorry for Yugi's mom. I kept thinking of fitting her in; it would make sense, ne? But alas, it wasn't to be. Events wouldn't let her. She's so forgotten, looking after the Kame shop in 'Jii-chan's absence. . . feels like doing an Omake just for her, looking depressed. Oh, and just so you know and aren't confused, the others know about the mind-link thingy by now. They were told at the end of / after the end of last chapter. I didn't write it 'cause it'd just be repeating a scene.

To quote Little Kuriboh – I'm bringing smexy back! (okay, not much of a back, but he does appear.)

**Fic Trivia**: My characters (and the story) have changed a lot since I wrote the first draft for my first scenes. Originally, the sleepover Yugi and Bakura had leaked the secret that 'it was Bakura who let Yugi win'. That was before I'd read or watched Battle City. The first 'Letters' scene was actually a _lot_ similar to the one you've already got; only in the original, Marik was already in Domino (before I'd known he'd left just after Battle City) and had burst in on Yugi and Bakura with his letter. The whole idea for Marik phoning Bakura up was from the simple fact that at the start of the fic Marik wasn't _in_ Domino, or even Japan. I had to get him in (drag him in), _somehow_. He also had his yami still (I still called them 'Yamis' in the story, then).

* * *

The rest of that and the better part of the next day were both filled with the organized chaos that is packing. Marik and his family, who had only just arrived in Japan, didn't need to do much, and Bakura was somewhat used to moving about, but the others had less experience, leading more to people getting in each other's way as they wondered whether or not to bring sun block, or did the clouds in England cover the sun so much it wasn't needed? Which clothes should I take? Will I need my deck? Will the Duel Disks work, and should we take them with us?

Organized chaos, indeed.

Bakura, Yugi mused as he threw a couple of black vests, a shirt and few extra belts in his suitcase, was probably having the worst time of them all. He'd been called at seemingly all hours by phone (that'd be Anzu-chan and Jii-chan) and by mind link (Yugi, Marik and some rare times, the Pharaoh) about what England was really like. He reminded them all constantly that although Anzu-chan and the others only had to prepare for summer and unexpected rain, he, Yugi and Marik would have to pack for all weathers – even though the letters said they'd be getting robes and cloaks as their uniforms. It never hurt to be prepared, after all. So Yugi had added another jacket just to make sure, and Marik had appeared to be ready to invest in an entirely new wardrobe until he was reminded by both his sister and Bakura-kun himself that most of what he would be wearing once he got there would be the robes on the list anyway.

Their flight out to London, England was due to leave at about four-fifteen on their second day, leaving room for only a short last-minute scramble for keys and other belongings on the not-to-be-forgotten list. Passports and their whereabouts, such a hassle to normal people going on holiday, seemed minor inconveniences when Bakura-kun served as a human locator.

They made a motley group. Marik was back in his lavender belly-shirt and cargo pants, but lugging not only his suitcase, but also a well-sized 'handbag'. It had been Bakura who had encouraged him not to take the Rod in a trouser pocket by asking him if he'd ever been through customs before. When the Egyptian had said yes, but only since Battle City's finish, his friend had politely explained how customs would see the Rod as 'Sharp and Pointy and Dangerous'. It had been the Spirit's idea to put the Item into hand luggage; it could be passed off as an ancient artefact that neither he nor any of the others trusted to be kept safe in the cargo. Which was, admittedly, all true, although it had taken nearly an hour for Yugi and the Pharaoh to convince him that they didn't mind that he had the Item back for now – at least, so long as he behaved, the Pharaoh added with an amused twinkle in his eye.

Bakura himself had surprisingly little. One suitcase was comprised of clothes and other odds and ends while the other contained what could only be a rather small collection of Monster World dolls and the pieces of landscape he'd grown particularly fond of. Dressed in his blue-and-white striped T-shirt and pale jeans with a baseball cap to keep the sun's glare off, for once he wasn't hiding the Millennium Ring under his clothes. He'd decided that for at least this part of the journey, it was pointless. Everyone who mattered, knew all about it. The Spirit (although he'd be extremely angry if he ever heard his host say anything of the sort) was harmless. Nothing would be able to get past Yugi-kun and Marik-kun. What would he be able to do on a plane, anyway?

Yugi was dressed in a lighter version of his usual getup of black vest and dark blue trousers. His old uniform jacket was in his suitcase, along with the rest of it all. Which included his Duel Disk, the Millennium Tauk, the God Cards in the golden box the Puzzle had originally came in before he had solved it, various cards safely tucked away (just in case he needed them) and a large collection of mementos including a Capmon monster figurine (Beeton). Various other bits and pieces weighed him down, but still he followed after the others with a smile on his face and – somehow – a bounce in his step.

Anzu and the others who were only going for a short time had needed to take less. In fact, just like the last time, Rishid could be carrying one or even two more suitcases at a time than he really needed to, but was more often than not the one taking them from those in their group who, like Yugi, showed signs of struggling with their loads. Jonouchi and Honda were both there, as was Shizuka, who had arrived by train earlier that day. She had been slightly disappointed to find out about the unlucky coincidence, but her spirits had returned when she had been invited to see the party of travellers off. Which often – resulting in bouts of minor coughing in Marik and some of the others – meant Honda ogling at her in her summer dress, which meant Jonouchi aiming not a few punches of brotherly protection his way. Ishizu had led the way to their departures gate, and now all that was left to be done was wait for the plane to come. Almost everyone was there.

The terminal clock was reading three forty-five when the commotion started by the entrance, and a strikingly familiar figure cut his way through the crowds straight towards them.

Six foot six, white trench coat billowing in the breeze of his long strides and an almost non-existent wind and a dark haired little brother following close by, Seto Kaiba looked like a storm about to hit. The clouds were already gathered, and lightning was just waiting to strike.

"Hey, Yuge. Any idea what that bastard's doin' here? You didn't go and _invite_ him, did you?"

Yugi shook his head. "No. I-I don't-"

"_Yugi_. What the _hell_ are you doing _here_?!"

Lightning struck. Yugi flinched slightly, but stood, making sure that his things wouldn't fall over in his absence. The others looked on in curiosity, the standard milling crowds at the airport straining to catch a glimpse or a photo of not just Seto Kaiba of Kaiba corp., but Seto Kaiba of Kaiba corp. in the same space as his rival, Yugi Mutou.

"Why shouldn't I be here, Kaiba-kun?"

Kaiba two new red spots in his cheeks. "Why _shouldn't_ you? I'll _tell_ you why, Yugi. Have you been _blind_ these past weeks?"

Yugi frowned slightly, affronted and confused. "I can't speak for everyone, but we've had a lot happening lately. We haven't been able to-"

"The Duel Monsters Regional Championships are being held _this week_, and you're going on _holiday_?"

Marik sighed in relief. At least he wouldn't have been expecting _me_ to come. I'm not regional. Bakura nodded absently.

Yugi, however, lost the confusion but the frown stayed. This _was_ it_?_ _The only reason?_ He sighed with a touch of sadness and shook his head.

"Kaiba-kun. . . Mou hitori no boku didn't enter Duellist Kingdom _or_ Battle City just for a title or rare cards or anything like that. We all had _reasons_ for being there and taking part. Mou hitori no boku for his memories. Jonouchi-kun for Shizuka-chan and his own honour. Even Marik-kun had a reason to be there, even if it wasn't the right one. It was something he believed in at the time. And because he was there, everything turned out all right in the end, ne?" _I'm willing to bet that even Bakura-san had his own reasons, just the same as Marik-kun. And because he was there, Bakura-kun got to know him better. That's gotta be good, right?_ "I don't really think that a regional championship is as important as – as – other things."

Kaiba flushed and paled in the space of a minute, and for a while he didn't say anything. Mokuba looked distinctly uncomfortable, but didn't say or do anything to defend either his friend or his brother. Yugi knew and understood that for Mokuba, his brother meant everything, but he could also see a lot of things that the older Kaiba couldn't – or wouldn't.

Finally, Kaiba snorted. He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back he had an amused smirk on his face.

"So you really are that naive. I could almost hope that for once you wouldn't get stuck on a White Rabbit chase, but obviously _that's_ too much to ask for, apparently." At Yugi's affronted look, he chuckled, but his mood turned sombre and serious without warning. "Do what you like, Yugi – it's not like what I say will actually make any sort of difference. Just make sure you don't get yourself killed, because I still have to defeat you."

With that, he was gone with a swish of his coat, Mokuba running to catch up after giving Yugi and the others a quick smile and wave.

Marik turned to him after they'd gone with a strange look on his face. "If I hadn't been there, none of that would have happened."

Yugi smiled again. "If you hadn't been there, we wouldn't have been able to help you. You wouldn't have been able to help us."

Ishizu shook her head in amazed wonder, while Rishid smiled warmly. Yugi simply grinned openly at the strange expression on Marik-kun's face.

"_The sixteen fifteen to London, Heathrow is ready for departure. All passengers for London Heathrow to Terminal five . . ."_

_That's us, then_.

Jonouchi, Honda and Shizuka said their goodbyes, giving out hugs and handshakes. Shizuka stuttered and bowed a lot, her brother head cuffing Yugi before clamping a hand down on Marik and Bakura's shoulders, enveloping them both in a bear hug and wishing them well. Honda did much the same, but instead of Jonouchi's thumbs-up, he gave his friends a heartfelt 'Be careful'. Promises to keep in touch no matter what were made all round. Tears were shed.

And then they were leaving, those still in the airport growing smaller and smaller in the distance, waving them off as the seven travellers found their seats and, eventually, the plane took off.

* * *

Yugi had been sleeping almost peacefully, head and spikes resting against the plane's cabin-style window, reminiscent of a certain blimp not too many months ago.

He _had_ been sleeping.

"Oi. Wake up."

White. The walls – the inside of the plane. The backs of the seats. The clouds in the sky that seemed so close. And, as he turned to look at the owner of the voice that had so rudely woken him up, white hair.

"Oi!"

Yugi blinked. "All right, I'm awake already, Bakura- . . san?" He cut off warily and wearily. He hadn't been expecting angry spikes and eyes so very _amber_ to be looking back at him.

"Yadonoushi's asleep," came the short explanation. "I got bored."

Yugi frowned with all the sense and tact of one just woken up without any coffee.

"Don' look bored."

Amber glared out at him, together with a promise of _Tell and you Die_ that wasn't heeded. Instead, Yugi yawned, turned his attention back to the clouds and his head back to its resting place.

The seats that Ishizu had been able to get for them weren't all together; as a last minute order outside of Egypt, they hadn't gotten the best. Yugi and Bakura were a few rows forward of the back of the plane, Yugi by the window and Bakura beside him. Another two people were on Bakura's other side, strangers who didn't know who they were and happily left them alone. Jii-chan and Ishizu were in another row as many seats back from the front as they were from the back on the other side, talking about history and swapping stories. Marik, Anzu and Rishid were in another row not far from them. Of all of them, only Ishizu, Jii-chan, Anzu-chan, Bakura-kun and Yugi himself seemed to be perfectly comfortable. The rest, as Yugi had surmised from various _feelings_ (not to mention the look in Bakura-san's eyes) were less than at ease. Normally he would have laughed at Bakura-san for being jumpy at an airplane ride, but somehow – even through sleepy eyes – he knew that it wouldn't be a good idea 'til they were off the plane and onto firm ground.

Apparently noticing that trying to wind Yugi up would make him more bored than ever, the other Bakura shifted his attention elsewhere, tapping his fingers tensely against the armrest as he did so and achieving spasmodic twitches in the trying-to-sleep Yugi beside him that he didn't even see.

Marik, at that moment, had been talking amicably with Anzu. He told her about some of his stories of Egypt, and she told him about his Pharaoh, and Yugi. Sometimes, Rishid broke his silences to tell them stories of Marik's early childhood, when things had been more innocent, to compliment Anzu's stories and tales. They were laughing over something when, out of the blue –

((OI!))

Marik seemed to jump a foot in the air, or would have if he hadn't been buckled in. Turning around in his seat, he cursed angrily in Egyptian, making the other passengers stare, some bemused and others angrily calling for the hostesses to calm him down. 'Bakura' chuckled, the slightly manic sound drowned by the commotion.

_Ah_ _. . . Chaos is achieved_. . .

Yugi squirmed, but smiled. Life was normal again.

* * *

Once they were back on solid ground and the still-shocked Marik had stopped threatening Bakura, they took a shuttle bus into London, where the letters said that their stopover point was. Diagon Alley, an apparently entirely wizarding street, was supposed to be hidden behind a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

For a while they wandered all but aimlessly, not having a clue as to where to start. Yugi was looking around everywhere with new eyes, asking someone what something meant every other minute, making Anzu – who was only slightly less awe-struck, and a lot more fluent in English – tease him for not having paid attention in class. Bakura was getting used to his other mother tongue once more, having been in either Japan or Egypt for the last five years. Marik, Rishid and Ishizu were sharing the experience of seeing the massive city – together. Only this time, Ishizu was able to hide some of her astonishment behind her mask of professionalism. Marik still acted like a child on his first holiday, or his first sight of the light.

Eventually, though, someone was bound to ask where exactly the pub was. The instructions were hardly instructions; simply a piece of paper that said 'find this place'. It wasn't on any maps, and no one they asked seemed to know of the place.

"So, does _nobody_ know how to get to this place?"

Yugi sighed. They'd all been walking for what seemed like simply _ages_, and although he hadn't complained, his feet were getting sore. The last time he'd felt like this had been back on Duellist Kingdom. There'd been a lot of walking then, too. "Not really, no."

"Ishizu-neesan, are you sure you didn't . . . I mean, back when you had that necklace . . ." Anzu trailed off, aware of people staring at her. Ishizu, however, shook her head, having understood what she'd been trying to say.

"I am afraid not. I saw nothing after my duel with Seto Kaiba, as I told you before. What I had seen before then were all events linked to Battle City, what happened between my brother and the Pharaoh. The last vision the Tauk gave was to the Pharaoh, after I gave it to him."

"Oh. Never mind."

Bakura, meanwhile, had stopped in his tracks, almost causing Yugi and Jii-chan to trip over him. His hand went up to slap his forehead.

"Anzu-chan, you were absolutely right! Good Lord, I must be a fool . . ."

So saying, there started a small concentration of Shadows around the pale boy, his hand going up to his chest, where the Ring had been hidden under his shirt at their arrival into the capital. After a tense moment, he relaxed, smiling. The hand that had been resting against the Item pointed in a certain direction. "That way. Definitely that way."

They followed him through the broadways and the alleyways, sometimes pausing for him to get a fresher reading, always with him pointing in a constant direction. Once or twice they'd stop for something else – Anzu would see a Broadway theatre and have to be reminded that they couldn't stop to pick up a programme or two. Yugi had to be pulled away from Burger King and MacDonald's, wanting to know how westerners made his favourite food. It was starting to get early in the evening when they finally stopped just opposite a street corner. The Ring around Bakura-kun's neck quivered eagerly towards a space on the corner before dropping. On one side of where the Ring's pointer had directed was a multi-story book store, while on the other side of the road there was a run-down records shop, looking like it had been owned by the same person for the last thirty to forty years.

"So where's it supposed to be?" Marik was smirking, bemused.

"Right there." Bakura frowned, not unlike a child who had just been proved wrong. "It's _supposed_ to be there. The Ring's never been wrong before . . . I definitely told it to find the Leaky Cauldron."

"Maybe it found a _book_ called _Leaky Cauldron_. That looks like a _big_ book store, Bakura-kun."

"I was very specific. I said a pub, not a book . . ." He sighed. "Oh, well. Only one way to find out, I suppose."

With that, he proceeded to cross the road with great care. Then, being on the side of the book store, proceeded to stop and stare at the suddenly not-space right next to it.

Occupied by what had just previously been nothingness, was now a grubby looking old pub, just like their letters had said there would be. It looked at least a hundred or so years old, with the sign above the door dirty and dusty, showing its namesake swinging in the modern street. Shrugging, Yugi and Marik waited for the traffic to calm down again before crossing to join Bakura, who was now staring through opaque windows at the goings-on inside.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Inside, all of you."

"Heh – no need to tell me, Jii-chan!"

The old man chuckled at him, waited for Anzu to go past before entering himself, followed by the others.

The pub was as shabby on the inside as it was from he out, but that didn't stop them from staring. It was all so _different_. Not just because they were in the west, but there were the tiniest things. . . everyone was wearing robes, for one. The chatter that had been halted when they had entered had started back up again, covering topics as menial as the price of potions ingredients to politics. Soon, the only one left watching them was the barman, who although he was old and bald gave off a friendly air.

"Excuse me? This . . . _is_ the Leaky Cauldron?"

The old barman nodded at Bakura, who was at the bar already. Yugi noted with renewed curiosity how his friend seemed to just fit into the place without any real trouble.

"Would you mind telling us how to get into a place called Diagon Alley? We were told that we had to go there, and that your pub was on the way there."

The barman smiled – something that would have been toothy, if he'd had any teeth – not far off a grin. "You could say that." He gestured to the back door. "What you do is you go out that door, hit the right brick with your wand, and go through. Not much point now, though – near everything's closed by this time."

"Oh. I suppose that at least now we know where to go back to. Do you know when we should head out by tomorrow?"

The barman grunted. "Hmph. Hard to say. Some places open early, some don't until late."

Bakura took a long look around the dingy place, noting things and seeing things.

"I see. Would you mind if we stayed the night?"

Both the barman and not a few members of their strange party started. _How did- ? When did he- ?_

After a few minutes' haggling that meant that they could pay the next day when they had the proper currency and their rooms had been assigned, they could be seen going their separate ways into their rooms – Ishizu and Anzu in one, Marik following Rishid into another not far from the girls and Yugi and Bakura sharing, leaving Jii-chan the only one who got a room to himself. Yugi flopped and Bakura collapsed onto their respective beds, suitcases forgotten for the moment. Arms crossed behind his head, Yugi asked something that had bothered him.

"Ne, Bakura-kun. Where'd you learn all that downstairs?"

"All what, Yugi-kun?"

"The way you got us the rooms. You were really cool back there."

"You think so?" He shrugged, an interesting manoeuvre from his position on the bed. "It was nothing. I've had to pick up a few things over the last few years. To tell the truth, it isn't me who pays the rent – it all comes out of my father's account. He insisted at it, but . . . it's still been me who had to haggle for the rent, find a new place to live each time I had to move."

"That must've been hard," Yugi sighed. He still clearly remembered their discussion from the night before they received their letters. For him, all this had started about just a year ago. Maybe more, but not much more. For Bakura-kun, it had been four years of uncertainty and fear. "But – hey. It's not so hard any more, ne? You've got all of us here!" He laughed for a moment, but then turned serious again. "You don't have to hide any more, either. At least, no more than me or Marik-kun will. Everyone who counts, knows, right?"

Ryou Bakura, lying on the other bed, sat back up thoughtfully. After a minute or two, he went back to his suitcase to find his pyjamas, letting a thought slip out like a whisper on the wind. (That's right. I really _can_ relax now . . .)

_Yeah_, Yugi thought with a yawn. _And we're gonna make it so you can_. He received a strong reassurance from his other before yet another yawn sent him on a quest for his own pyjamas. _I don't care about time differences_, he grumbled to himself. _I've_ _had a long, tiring day, and all I want to do_ – he plopped back onto the bed and into the covers – _is_ sleep.

* * *

Bakura woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and rested after a long sleep. He checked his watch, which had been left under his pillow before he went to sleep and adjusted for Greenwich meantime the moment they entered the time zone – nine-thirty. Ish. That wasn't so bad. With a nine-hour time difference, things could have been worse. Yugi-kun was still snoring, covers half kicked off the bed. The chatter and noise from the outside world still seemed sluggish and slow, but that might just be because he was inside, and everything was muffled. With a stretch as he sat up, he got out of bed, washed and dressed in the same as yesterday – no use getting anything new out of the carefully packed suitcase before they knew whether or not they'd need to pack up again quickly, after all.

Out in the hallway, he found Marik leaning against the wall opposite.

"You know, I was wandering how long you were going to take. I've been up for hours."

"I only just woke up."

"I noticed."

For a few moments they didn't speak while a greying wizard in emerald robes walked past, muttering under his breath while cleaning his teeth out with his tongue.

"Where are Ishizu-san and Rishid-san?"

"Out. They went to find the bank – the guy from yesterday said it was called Gringotts. They should be back soon."

"Good. Then we can go out soon. Is Anzu-chan awake yet?"

Marik shook his head. "Nee-san said she wanted to let her sleep for a while longer."

"I suppose. But we will need to be going out sooner rather than later."

His Egyptian friend shot an amused look his way. "You're impatient."

Bakura shrugged. "It _is_ an entirely new world out there. Different to Egypt, different to Japan, different from –" He cut off sharply. (Different from anything we've ever experienced before . . . magic without Shadows. I think I deserve the right to be a little impatient, don't you?)

"Hn. Of course it is." ;So what's Yugi doing? I thought he was one of the ones who couldn't wait either.;

"Yugi is still asleep," Bakura said wryly. "Snoring."

Marik's eyes went wide with amusement, and was trying to hide his laughter in a snort when the door to the room opened once more. Yugi glanced blearily out, barefoot and still in his pyjamas. His hair – ordinarily an interesting study of spikes in different colours and various degrees of respect for gravity, was surprisingly limp and floppy, making it look much more normal than it was usually able to. His eyes, usually bright with curiosity and excitement, were being rubbed at by proportionately small hands. He fought against a yawn and the yawn won.

"Mariku, Bak'a-ku' . . ."

They both looked at him, torn between laughter and curiosity as to what exactly he was going to say next.

". . . coffee."

While Bakura went down to find Yugi's coffee and see when breakfast was served until, Marik had to hide his laughter in various snorts and coughs as his Pharaoh got dressed.

Just over an hour later saw them finally out in the sunlight of Diagon Alley, the brick entranceway closing behind them.

Anzu _stared_. For that matter, everyone stared.

Then, Yugi being Yugi, her friend started jumping about and running toward the nearest shop. Bakura followed at a more sedate pace, eyes as wide as she'd ever seen them. Jii-chan looked just as amazed as his grandson, laughing as he tried to keep pace. Anzu herself just stood there looking at everything for a whole minute before she caught up with the others. It was all . . . wow. People in robes were walking everywhere, in shades from every hue of the rainbow. There was a kind of magic in the air- no, there _was_ magic in the air, all around her, and none of it had anything to do with dark Shadows or revenge or anything like that.

Grinning, she followed after them, taking note of places like _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ and _Gambol and Japes_ – a joke shop, by the look of it. Jou and Honda would have loved that.

"So – where do we go first?"

In the middle of the street, Sugoroku had seen the one kind of shop that would make his eyes go wide. A game shop. For once, though, Yugi was absently holding him back.

"Bank," the short duellist said in a final tone. "We can't get anything if we don't go there first."

Bakura glanced sideways at Marik before turning his attention back to the place in question, a masterpiece in white marble with the name 'Gringotts' carved above the doors. Marik smirked, but not unkindly.

"We're paying for the Leaky Cauldron. We're _not_ paying for whatever you're getting here."

"Oh." He made some small jerk of his head, a cross between a half-shrug and a nod. There was a short pause while they mounted the stone steps and read the inscription in the doors.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take but do not earn,_

_Must pay dearly in their turn,_

_So if you seek beneath these floors,_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware,_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Marik chuckled darkly, eliciting a dirty look from Bakura-kun.

"_Marik-kun!_"

"What?" The Egyptian's tone didn't give much hope for innocence. "I never said anything."

"That," Yugi said deliberately, "is not the point."

Marik just snorted.

Anzu turned in bemused confusion to Ishizu.

"Why is it I feel like I'm only getting half of what they're saying?"

Ishizu smiled, but half of the mystery that was usually there had been replaced by a kind of amused irony.

"We are."

"Oh. . . I guess I forgot. They told me – us – what happened, but its kinda hard to believe. I mean, it was hard enough when Yugi started to talk to himself, and more than freaky when Bakura-kun started to do it to. I mean, the Ring, it . . ." she cut herself off, shaking her head. "And now they're all at it. I feel pretty left out, actually," she said, laughing self-consciously as they entered. Bakura-kun was still shooting accusing glances at Marik when they caught their first sight of the people . . . creatures . . . at the tills.

"Oh . . . God – are they . . .?"

"Goblins? Yes."

She started, jumping further than she would have done if she hadn't already been freaked by the . . . goblins. She shivered. Not only were goblins apparently very real, but Bakura-kun had just sneaked up on her and she _still_ wasn't used to that _at all_.

"And they _actually_. . ."

"Yes, they do work here." This time it was Ishizu who answered her unvoiced question. Her tone didn't convey any surprise or horror, as if she was talking about a commonplace subject. "Excuse me? Two transactions . . . muggle to wizard, yes. . ."

Anzu watched as first Yugi, then Bakura exchanged their 'muggle' money for 'wizard' money; real gold, silver and bronze. She listened as the goblin explained in a monotone voice what they all were.

As they walked out, Bakura seemed to visibly relax. He let out a sigh of relief before rounding on Marik.

"I almost had a heart attack in there! You just _had_ to taunt him, didn't you?"

"Well, he _did_ deserve it."

"If you didn't _realize_, _I_ was the one who nearly-" Bakura cut himself off, flushing, and his face went stony for a few moments before he spoke again. "Would you mind _thinking_ next time? _Please_."

Marik's eyebrows rose. "Are you implying that I don-"

"_Minna_!"

They all stared at Yugi, who had had to all but shout to be heard.

"_Thank_ you. Now – where's the place where they do post? Tom-san said it was down here somewhere."

"What do we need the post office for, Yugi?"

"Well . . ." Yugi rubbed an embarrassed hand at the nape of his neck. "They didn't exactly say how we were supposed to reply," he laughed, and set off in search.

Anzu sighed. "They. . . really _are_ going then. "I'd . . . actually kind of hoped he'd . . . that they'd decide against it."

"I understand." Ishizu was looking fondly at her brother, who was running to catch up with the other two. He was smiling and laughing, the happiest she had ever seen him. "I think that it must be as hard for them as it is for us, even so. To be so separated from the rest of their friends . . . their families . . . my brother has had hardly any time to get to know us again, and now he must leave us once more, and so soon."

"But – then – wouldn't it just be better for him to stay with you?" she asked, confused.

Ishizu shook her head, but this time it was Rishid who answered.

"Marik-sama needs this. Although he is happy with us, the shadows of his previous life still haunt him. This will be a new life for him, far from anyone who knows of who he used to be other than the Pharaoh, and Bakura Ryou."

Anzu sighed again. _I suppose_.

The four of them walked along at a slower pace, cries in the distance telling them that Yugi had found the post office.

"This should be good for Yugi, too," Yugi's grandpa said. "Not only does he get the chance to learn amazing new things, but he also might be able to take down the swelling in his head."

Anzu couldn't help it any more – she laughed. "Jonouchi was saying before we left that Yugi was becoming like Kaiba-kun. I hardly think _that's_ possible, but he _was_ starting to get a little too used to the attention."

"We've done it! We've done it!" Yugi was back, just as his grandpa's chuckling had started to subside. "Bakura-kun said he needed to do something and we should go ahead and he'd catch up with us so I wanna go find where they do _wands_!"

"Wands."

"Yeah! Well, it said wand in the letter, so there should be a wand shop around here somewhere. I wonder what they look like."

Marik shook his head, a smile on his face. "They specified _wand_, not _rod_. I can only hope they're not those black ones with white ends you see everywhere. _That_ would be embarrassing, no matter what they can do."

Yugi laughed. "I don't care what they look like, so long as they're not sparkly with stars on the end."

Marik shared a look with him, laughing while lifting his hands in a light shrug. "I concede defeat," he said. "Ryou wins."

Yugi broke out into a gale of fresh laughter. "Bakura-kun said a black wand with white bits on the ends and sparkles in the black bit and a pink star. With tassels."

Anzu shook her head. "That's just ridiculous."

"That's what he said," Marik told her, staring at an upcoming shop front. A sign hung from above the door, with a simplistic artist's rendering of a plain wooden stick shooting out sparks. "_Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 __BC_," came the muffled near-whisper. He shot a glance backwards. "And Ryou's on his way."

Bakura caught up to the rest at a run. He'd been told when Marik had spotted Ollivanders', and had rushed towards the place in excitement, curiosity stemming from both himself and the other person that _wasn't_ him. He entered, jumping slightly at the bell that rang as he did so. Stared at the piles of small rectangular boxes that lined the walls, different colours and different sizes. Stared at the old man who was behind the counter. At the measuring tape that was checking the distance between Yugi's nostrils and making him go cross-eyed.

"So . . ." The old man's attention turned to him, and Bakura found himself all but pinned to the spot. "There are three of you, are there?"

"Y-yes, Ollivander-san."

"Good, good. I had a feeling there'd be more of you. Well – over here, then." Bakura wasn't sure whether Ollivander was talking to him or the measuring tape, because as soon as he walked further into the shop, the tape measure all but flew over to him, hovering in midair. "Wand arm, please."

He held out his left hand and the tape sprang into action, but he didn't take his eyes off of the man who had now started to scurry up and down the aisles like a librarian or researcher in search of a specific volume.

"Every Ollivander wand is different, Mr-."

"Bakura, Mr. Ollivander."

"They all have different cores of powerful magical substances, and each core is different. Just as no two phoenixes, dragons or unicorns are the same. That is how unique each and every wand is. In this way, wands can be said to say a lot about their owners, and not just in the area of what they might excel in . . ." His voice faded out as he went further away, and faded in again as he came back, stacks of wand boxes in his arms. With a quiet reprimand, the tape fell to the floor. "Of course, it isn't the wizard who chooses the wand, thinking of what suits them best, but rather the wand that chooses the wizard . . ." Mr. Ollivander opened up a number of the boxes, revealing beautiful wands made of different types of wood. Some were straight while others, more ornately decorated. "Here. Try this. Ebony and dragon heartstring. Fourteen inches. Strong."

Bakura took the stick of wood in his hand. He waved it around a bit. Nothing happened.

"Holly and unicorn tail hair. Nine and a half inches. Swishy," the wandmaker said as he replaced the other.

This time, something _did_ happen. His hand felt a strange prickling sensation wherever it was touching the wand, not entirely an nice feeling at all. He almost dropped it.

"Obviously not. Here. Worth a try – maple and dragon heartstring. Eleven inches."

That one didn't work either. It was barely in his hand and it was being swiped away again. The pile of tried wands grew steadily higher, and Bakura was starting to wander about the whole thing. The only type of magic he knew was Shadow magic. Which Yugi had said he was good at, but he was proficient at. It came to a point where Ollivander, smiling like his Christmas had come early, disappeared briefly into a back room. When he came out, he held in his hands a large box, which, when he opened its lid, revealed a number of wands that looked just the same as the rest, except for the fact that they looked like they hadn't been made to sell.

"Here. A strange collection, these. Born out of hobby and an old man's curiosity. Try this one." He held out one of the wands. "Beech. Dragon heartstring. But the thing stuck to one of the others before I made it. Eight inches. Snappy."

He wondered about what Ollivander had said, but before he could think too hard on the matter the wand was taken out of his hand, having done nothing.

"Shouldn't have thought so . . . here. Try this. Odd combination, even in these. Rosewood. Unicorn tail hair and dragon heartstring. Flexible. Twelve inches."

He knew it the moment it was in his hand. This time, there was a _warmth_ in his hand. Something that made him smile widely. He waved it once, letting it give out a rainbow of dark-and-bright sparks. The Ring glinted under his T-shirt.

"Very good!" Ollivander cried out, "Very good indeed. Curious, yes, but good . . ."

The wand was put in its box and onto the counter. Mr. Ollivander moved some of the tried wands out of the way and turned to Yugi. After the wide, pale moons of his eyes had stared into Yugi's violet ones for a time, he went straight back to the box of wands where Bakura's had come from. He rummaged around for a while until he had found what he had been looking for.

"Here, Mr. Mutou. Try this. A nicely balanced wand, I thought. Ebony. Phoenix tail feather and unicorn hair. Whippy. Fourteen inches."

Luckily, Yugi got his wand first time, sending up his own set of sparks.

Marik's was a little harder, if a little more normal. The wandmaker had tried giving him similar wands to the ones that he and Yugi had, with double cores. None of them had worked, and Marik had received a worse reaction than Bakura when he had tried to wave one with double unicorn tail hairs, dropping it onto the floor after it sent out angry sparks that toppled some of the carefully stacked tried wands. Finally, when Ollivander did find the wand that chose him, it was just as strange as the others.

"Rowan wood. Phoenix tail feather. Thirteen inches. An interesting combination that seemed to want to be made. The feather still held some of the ash."

Marik took the wand with caution, but almost wasn't surprised when it responded positively to him.

(The wand chooses the wizard . . . you know, Marik, that wand must like you.)

Ollivander had bowed them out of the shop after they had paid for the three unusual wands. Now they were meandering up Diagon Alley.

;It's a wand. A stick of wood. How can a stick of wood _like_ someone?;

Bakura smiled at him. (Rowan wood. Did you know that rowan wood is said to ward off evil?)

;. . . No.;

By now they'd reached the apothecary. Here, the shop assistant guessed that they were for Hogwarts, fascinating them with all of the different ingredients they might need in the year to come. Bakura was amused to find out that they really _did_ use beetle's eyes and rat spleens as well as some other far-fetched sounding things. The place next door sold the cauldrons they were supposed to have, and he was surprised to feel his stomach flip when he saw some made out of gold. It hadn't been his reaction.

They got a more normal response of surprise and greed when he saw the golden scales, which only made the rest of them laugh ("They look just like the ones Shadi used!").

Their next stop was for their books, much to the insistence of both Bakura and Marik, who were fascinated by the place and had to be dragged out of Flourish and Blotts. Even then, they came out bearing more volumes than were on their school list. Ishizu had also found references to wizarding history that she said would be useful, but Bakura suspected that she liked reading just as much as her brother did. After stopping back at the Leaky Cauldron to put everything down, they headed out again after lunch to get what little that was left on their lists.

Madam Malkin's was fortunately at a low point for the day by the time they entered the squat witch's establishment. That way, they were able to all get measured up at the same time. At which point, as the assistant slipped long, black robes over their heads and pinning them to fit, Marik groaned. He had finally remembered that when it had said _robes, black_, it really did mean, well, _black_. He tried to put his hands to his head in misery, but was scolded by the seamstress and told to stay still.

"Great," he muttered. "By the end of this, I'm going to look like a Ghoul for the rest of the year. _Just_ what I wanted."

Yugi, Bakura and Anzu sniggered. The rest seemed to have a hard time keeping the laughter back.

"Hey, _I'm_ not going to mind."

Bakura held back a snort. "Yugi-kun, you've not looked far off from a Goth for _ages_. Robes now won't make much difference."

At Yugi's affronted look, Anzu giggled. "You know, he _is_ right." He pouted. "Not in a bad way, though. It suits you."

"Er, thanks, Anzu-chan."

A few moments passed. Then; "How do you reckon I look?"

They paused to look at Bakura, who was standing as still as he could.

"You look like an idiot," Marik said blandly. "I don't know whether you're halfway between a vampire and a ghost or just plain stupid."

"_Marik_!"

The Egyptian looked at his sister with a look on his face as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Nee-san, he _did_ ask for it."

The rest of their time spent there passed almost quietly compared to those first few days. While they still explored Diagon Alley, normal, mundane London was not forgotten. Museums were visited, attractions attracted, new foods tried and new games played, including the Spirit of the Ring's 'How Many Times Can You Make Them Jump (Or Scream)', Anzu's steadily growing tally of the times they forgot to speak aloud and one (or more) of them would be seemingly going about having half a conversation, as well as the not-to-be forgotten new and revised version of Pictionary, otherwise known as Yugi trying to improve his English, with the help of a notebook and sign language.

The London Dungeons and Madame Tussaud's happened at Bakura's pleading request, just as had the theatre trip at Anzu's and the many motorbike showrooms at Marik's. At those particular two, however, Yugi was strongly reminded of how _both_ Bakuras liked the occult, the strange and the things that go Bump in the Night. It was a little disconcerting to say the least – and especially when the other Bakura sometimes let his sadistic enjoyment through his mind link barrier on purpose.

The only big event, per se, happened not too long into August. Bakura had gone out into Diagon Alley alone, having told them that he wouldn't be very long, but by the afternoon they were starting to get worried, and when by evening he still wasn't back, Yugi and Marik sent mental prods and pokes his way only to have them unanswered. As if he almost wasn't there. They went out into the Alley to search, and it was Marik who found the telltale sign leading the way to Knockturn Alley. He told the others before storming in, and came out not long later with a confused and apologetic Ryou Bakura who had next to no memory of the last few hours.

Anzu's departure for home was the thing that shook them the most. As a minor, she couldn't go back on her own, so Jii-chan chose to go with her, saying that he needed to get back to the Kame anyway. The day before she was due to leave, she presented Bakura with a keychain, one of the yellow smiley faces as a sort of pendant. "I'd been planning on drawing the face on our hands again," she said as she presented it to him, "but then you and Yugi got your letters and everything always happens so fast. It's kinda academic now anyway – you were there when Yugi duelled Pegasus, right?" A shrug. "Anyway – I thought it'd be nice." Bakura stuttered and said thank you a lot, attaching it to his suitcase so that it wouldn't get lost. He'd heard about the friendship ring that Anzu had drawn on Yugi's, Jonouchi's, Honda's and her hands, and was more than a little overcome to be thought of as officially one of the group.

All in all, the last few remaining days of July and August passed by quickly, and soon there was only a week left, then a few days, and then it was the day before they had to go. Packing wasn't as hard this time around, even though they had more things. They had attempted to keep things in some semblance of order, putting this and that away not long after it was bought. Marik's odd handbag was found again in case it was needed, and everything checked just to be sure that either it was there or it wasn't there; some things, like Yugi's Duel Disk, had gone back with Jii-chan after they found out that electronics didn't work. Yugi dreaded to think what would happen if Kaiba-kun ever decided to believe in magic simply as a business venture. If anyone could get Duel Disks (not to mention other things as well) to work with magic, it would be Kaiba.

That night was angst-ridden. They were going to be leaving, really leaving, with only the other two to keep them company. Marik's brother and sister couldn't go with him, only contact him by mail, and the same was true for Yugi's many friends as well as his family. Bakura had spent almost every other day at the post office, but none of the others had pried, unless you counted Marik's suggestion that if he was that fascinated with the postal system then maybe he should buy himself an owl. They'd all been surprised when he actually had, coming back one day with a dark eagle owl which he later decided on calling Shisha. He hadn't explained his true reasons, even to Yugi or Marik. The only one who knew was the Spirit.

* * *

AN: Whew. Now that's over with. Now for some explanations before I go onto the next chapter.

1-_Capmon figurine, Beeton_ – During Yami Yugi's Death-T match against Mokuba, he won using a piece that evolved into the strong lv 5 monster Beeton.

2-_Don' look bored_ – I hope this captures the essence of the many, many fics out there that have the highly unlikely scenario of the Yamis not knowing anything about modern life. cackles Yami Bakura just don't like air planes. Why? Ask him, not me. Bakura: Grrr. . . . or . . . maybe not . . .

3-_Supposed to be there_ – the Leaky Cauldron is supposed to be invisible to muggles. Yugi-tachi's magic isn't originally wizard, so it takes them longer to be able to see it.

4-_Coffee_ – Remember All The World's A Board? That time earlier, on the plane? Yep, continuity rocks. Heavily inspired by Roll the Bones by Vathara (You're blocking Kaiba-kun's path to the coffee) and History of Magic by Lizeth (Coffee is to mortals as ambrosia is to the gods).

5-_Ryou wins_ – he had a little sister, remember?

6-Double cores. I saw this once, and couldn't get the idea out of my head. Kudos to whoever thought it up first, 'cos I can't remember. Some of these wands (even the ones that don't choose them) have stories. _Holly and Unicorn_: both of these are 'light' attributes. Ryou Bakura, who has shadows of his own in his soul without his own personal dark side to help him out, would not suit it. _Beech...Eight inches, snappy_: If you got this when you read it first time 'round, well done! It's a reference to Egyptian Bakura. Eight incheseight years, snappyslightly insane. If it was only the spirit, it would've been perfect. _Rosewood_: Pretty but thorny. You can't get too close without getting hurt. Describes the Bakurae perfectly. _Ebony, Phoenix and unicorn_: Darkness and light, rebirth. Marik's is already explained, and is quite easy to get. yet more cackling from off-stage and Marik-kun glares at me

7-Bakura. Finally I get to him. A running theme throughout the chapter is his knowledge of magic and the occult. He recognizes the goblins, he knows the properties of different woods, is interested in potions ingredients, as well as Madame Tussauds etc. I'm guessing at least one of the books he got covered the darker side of magic.

9:_Pictionary_: Remember that first chapter, the first scene? It _did_ have a use, you know.

10:Anzu's 'minor' problem. One memorable quote from Roll the Bones "Minor. Illegal. Deportation.". Bwa ha ha!

12, and the last one: Shisha's name will be explained next chapter, or soon, anyway. Originally I was going to have Yugi get a cat and call it Isis just for fun, but then realized that it would be unnecessary and I'd keep forgetting the poor thing. Maybe I'll put it up as a drabble or something. After all, it _was_ a funny story.


	8. September 1st

8 – September 1st

-Is it wrong to update simply to hear the internet-speak screams?-

AN: Hmm... Just noticed. Ryou's Ring's becoming a real superhero-tool-of-the-trade, isn't it? Like the Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver or something. On a more serious note, from now on, English is going to be the main language of the story. If the character's POV is unable to understand it, it won't be handily translated for the readers – they'll just be hearing gobbledegook. Likewise, it will be left untranslated if there is no English equivalent.

---

The next morning passed quickly. Far _too_ quickly.

Time flew in a flurry of putting things back into suitcases, things getting lost and then found again in heated arguments that often missed words, phrases, or even a whole side to the story. Tempers frayed as emotions ran riot, with none of them wishing the embarrassment of actually saying what they felt, how they were going to miss their normal lives. Somehow, Marik had been able to stuff the bag he'd used to conceal away the Millennium Rod on the plane deep into his luggage, preferring to keep the Item hidden away in a pocket where he could get at it easily if the need arose on the train. Ishizu gave him a look and a sigh, but none of the others seemed to mind so she didn't say anything. Rishid commented to her that he believed master Marik to be more responsible now, that he would know what he was doing. Bakura said that he'd willingly give Marik a whack on the head if he tried anything stupid. The look on Yugi's face rather than the affronted 'what?' from Bakura himself or reassurance from Marik himself that Ryou really _would_ do it told any not privy to the mind link just how stressed out they really were. It also reminded Marik's brother and sister that he wasn't going to be alone in this.

They took taxis to King's Cross Station, Ishizu with Yugi and Bakura in one and Marik and Rishid in another, as well as more of the luggage. As soon as they had seen the three off, Ishizu and Rishid would be heading back to Egypt, so all of their things were there as well. The cab ride itself was quiet, and although Yugi did try sometimes to chatter about something or other, passed mostly in silence.

King's Cross was, to put it bluntly, packed. People of all ages and nationalities were milling around, waiting for or getting on trains. But try as they might, none of them saw any large groups of children or trunks with owls on the top like Bakura's. They were less surprised to find a distinct lack of platform nine and three-quarters between platforms nine and ten – Bakura had been to the station before, and he had never seen any platform nine and three-quarters previously. And yet the fact remained that the platform _was_ there. The Ring pointed towards platform ten when they were on platform nine, towards platform nine when they were on platform ten. It infuriated both of the white-haired Ring wielders to no end. In the end, it was Marik who found – or stumbled across - the entrance. Just as confused and annoyed as the others, he had moodily stormed over to the barrier where the Ring always changed directions, and leaned against it. Or rather, meant to lean against it. What actually happened was a lot less like what he'd wanted, with him falling back through the barrier as though it didn't even exist and landing heavily on the ground, earning himself a sore backside and a newfound gratitude for trouser pockets that were on the front, rather than the back. As he picked himself up he mentally winced at the thought of what might have happened. Then, he looked around.

/Marik-kun! What happened?!/

The _train_. It was huge. And yet it slotted itself between the other two on either side perfectly, red and old-fashioned like he'd seen in books. The crowds of schoolchildren that they'd been looking for out on the normal station were now visible; hundreds of trunks and trolleys, a noise of owls and cats and the din of talk from both on and off the train bearing the legend _Hogwarts Express_. He looked up and saw the sign for the platform swinging from the steam coming from the train. Nine and three-quarters.

~The barrier,~ he sent back to the others. ~You've got to go _through_ it. Well? Come on!~

/Anou . . . did you just say _through_ it?/

((What, didn't you see him make a fool of himself?)) There was a mental snort from the other Bakura and white hair came through the barrier at a run, closely followed by the pharaoh's distinctive spikes. Ishizu and Rishid came after him with worried looks on their faces.

"_Su-Sugoii_!"

Sharp white spikes softened with a golden flash. "It is rather, isn't it?"

Marik grunted and looked up at the time. A quarter to eleven. Not much time left. People were already starting to haul their luggage onto the train and find their seats.

"Marik-kun?"

"What?"

"We'llgo on ahead. You can catch up with us in a minute if you want."

"Thanks, Yugi."

After finding somewhere to get on and extricating Bakura's owl from the trunk he was tied to, it was almost time for the train to be leaving. The conductor was blowing the whistle for the last passengers to board when Marik finally met up with them, a stony expression etched onto his face. Together, they walked down the train, looking for a free compartment – or at least one that had enough spaces for all of them. Nearly all of them were already packed, and sometimes it wasn't just students. Yugi saw owls like Bakura's in more than a few, as well as cats of all shapes and sizes and he even thought he saw a toad once. In some of the compartments, people were playing games like they'd seen in Diagon Alley, gobstones and wizard chess.

Yugi sighed for the first time since waking up that day. The first time he had let himself.

_I miss them. Jonouchi-kun. Honda-kun. Anzu-chan. My first friends . . ._

He found himself absently looking at his right hand, the hand Anzu had drawn his part of the smiling face on that time at Death-T. The others . . . all three of them . . . were so far away, now. Anzu-chan had given Bakura-kun something to show him that he was a part of it all now, and both Marik and Bakura – both Bakuras, even – were closer to him than any of the others had or _could_ ever been. But somehow, that wasn't the point. They were his _friends_, and they hadn't been taken away from him – no, _he_ had left _them_.

"There's no-one else to here to help you this time, is there, Yugi?"

Yugi turned sharply to glare at Bakura as they passed a compartment where a whole lot of students were crowded around a dark boy with dreadlocks. The voice had been cheery and the other boy's face had been soft-looking and smiling, but Yugi knew well enough how well the Spirit could imitate his host when he wanted to. This time, it was _what_ he was saying that gave him away.

"Hardly," he retorted in an almost cold tone. "I'm not alone, you know. And even if I was, just because they weren't here with me wouldn't mean they weren't with me in spirit, no matter how far."

The other Bakura smiled widely, his appearance more scary than reassuring, like he was some kind of Cheshire cat. "That may be true", he said affably, "But that doesn't change the fact that they're _not here_, does it? Japan is half the world away, and we all know just how easy mistakes and slips are . . ."

Yugi felt a sick feeling start in his stomach. A hand went absently to the Puzzle. He knew he shouldn't be letting the other Spirit get to him, but was some truth in his words, whether he liked it or not. The bond he had with his friends back home felt stretched. Still there, of course – nothing short of something seriously major could destroy it – but stretched. And for the first time, Yugi felt homesick.

"All right, that's enough."

Yugi jumped at Marik's voice and Bakura stopped in his tracks, startled and nearly tripping up. Ryou Bakura's hand went to his chest and he was breathing as though he had just had a shock.

"M-_Marik_! Yugi?!" The real Bakura's voice squeaked in minor panic before realizing that nothing was blown up.

Yugi sighed again. "It's all right, Bakura-kun. Nothing happened."

"Yugi-?"

"Yeah?"

"But . . ."

"Looks like this one's free."

Marik opened the compartment door, effectively ending the other two boys' conversation for the time being. He dumped his baggage onto the racks and himself into a seat next to a messy-headed eleven year old with green eyes. Sitting opposite the black haired boy was a red-head with freckles and a dirty smudge on his nose.

"Er – Marik-kun . . . there are people in here."

"There're enough spaces that we can sit down."

Yugi sidled in self-consciously through the door. "A-anou – gomen nasai – Very sorry, I mean, but nowhere else was-"

"It's all right, really," said the one Marik was sitting next to. Yugi found himself staring at untameable black hair, bright green eyes and a lightning bolt scar on the right side of the boy's forehead. He winced in sympathy, wondering what could have caused it before realizing that he was getting just as much attention. The boy's piercing eyes took in his height, his clothes, his hair, and his eyes, making him squirm on the spot. He might be used to it, but that didn't mean he had to _like_ it. He was saved when Bakura bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry. I do hope we haven't-"

The redhead next to opposite the boy with the scar rolled his eyes.

"I suppose you can come in. You three friends?"

Yugi nodded his head gratefully, put his bags away and sat down. "Un!"

Bakura set his things down in a spare seat, carefully putting his owl next to a beautiful snowy. He sat down next to the redhead. "I'm sorry we burst in on you like we did."

"That's all right. By the way, my name's Harry Potter."

"Ron Weasley."

"Boku no namae wa Mutou Yugi desu."

Blank stares.

"English, baka." Marik hadn't opened his eyes since sitting down and his expression, or lack of, had all but convinced them that he was asleep. Yugi reddened with embarrassment at having to be reminded which language to use now.

"My name is Mu- Yugi Mutou."

"I'm Ryou Bakura," the last said. "Though you might hear my friends here calling me by my last name."

Ron Weasley frowned slightly. "That's one of those Japanese things, isn't it?

"Well, yes. I suppose it is-"

"You don't sound Japanese – at least, not like he does. You're more like my brother Percy on a good day."

"Uh. . ." (Do you suppose that's a good thing, or a bad thing?)

His only response was Marik's snort. "He's half English," the Egyptian informed their companions, "so if one of us starts spouting Japanese, you've got a walking dictionary."

((But if he starts cursing in Arabic, _no-one's_ going to understand _him_ . . .))

This time, Marik just grunted. Yugi sighed for the first time since entering the compartment, dispirited that his friend had been so affected by the separation from his family. Bakura just turned his head away, towards the window, where the towns were disappearing and forming into lush countryside.

For a few minutes, it just stayed like that. The tense atmosphere made them all uncomfortable, not excluding the other two in the compartment. Harry and Ron had to have noticed that something was amiss, because neither had said anything since Marik had spoken.

The silence was broken by the sliding of the compartment door. For a single moment, the tension rose even further, but with at the sight of only a bushy haired girl, even that was done away with.

"Excuse me," she started, apparently oblivious of the previous atmosphere, "but have any of you seen a toad?"

For a moment, the five of them stared at her as if she'd grown a head. Yugi and the others shook their heads, a snort of laughter coming from someone or other, but then Yugi's eyes widened.

"Anou – I think I might have seen one when we were getting on the train. But that was a long time ago. Gomen."

The girl shrugged and thanked him, about to leave, but then her attention was caught by something – or rather, some_one_, else.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you? I've read all about you – you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Background reading, you know." Out of the corner of his eye, Yugi caught Bakura nodding absently in understanding before catching himself at Harry's rather bemused 'Am I?".

"She's right, you know," he said softly. "You are in an awful lot of books. But. . . I've always made a habit of not believing everything that's written down or recorded about a person."

The girl 'hmm'd and Marik narrowed his eyes, but the Egyptian didn't say anything.

"I suppose you've got a point," the bushy haired witch said in an affected manner that told them that she would have preferred it if he hadn't. She gave them all one last look, eyes settling on the three Shadow Mages as if she knew them from somewhere, and abruptly left, supposedly back on the hunt for the lost toad.

"So – I really am in all of that?"

Now that the girl was gone, Harry sounded a slight bit more daunted than before. Yugi couldn't say that he blamed him – at least he had been a few years older than eleven when he had started being noticed for his skill at games; the boy sitting next to Marik seemed to have been famous for quite a while without even knowing.

"Yes," replied Bakura, bluntly and distracted. The half-English boy had taken out a book of his own to read for the train journey. "But I wouldn't let it get to you if I were you. Whether they know more about what happened than you doesn't matter – the truth is rarely pure, and never simple." A shrug, mostly seen by the way his hair moved like an avalanche, making him have to move it out of the way of his book.

They stared at him for a few moments, Yugi remembering that Bakura had probably had a similar experience with fame after Battle City, when it had been his other self who had been fighting, but his name that had been shown.

"My dad never believed any of that stuff either," said the redhead nervously, trying to tone down the almost tense atmosphere that had developed. "And you saw how mum was when Ginny started. I don't think there's going to be that many who'll bring it up."

"Oh, good."

Yugi laughed and Ron snickered. Marik took little or no notice, and by that time Bakura was already almost completely immersed in the book, oblivious.

"Hey... You know, I'm sure I recognise you from somewhere. I just can't-"

The door to the compartment slid open again, revealing a plump lady with a smile on her face.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?"

---

It was with an exhausted sigh and a soft thump that Ryou sat down a few hours later at the Gryffindor table, half confused as to how he had been placed there, but certain that his other self had had nothing to do with it.

The people they had met on the train were already sorted by now, and it had been them who had waved him over to where he was sitting now, watching the last two in the line and wondering what the hat would do for them.

His strategic personality being what it was, Marik was possibly the only one of them who had known for certain in his head which house he was going to be placed in before the had went down over his ears, but he hadn't said a word about it either on the train or in the line. A good idea, what with the house rivalries, but Ryou also believed that Yugi might have had something to do with it, too.

It was a good thing that Marik didn't look too awful in green, but a shame that his skin if not his mindset preferred gold over silver.

Yugi, even though he was the smallest of all of them even among the eleven year olds they were now taking classes with, ironically was the one who had the hardest time getting the large Sorting hat on well enough due to the rebellious nature of his spiky hair. It was ending up wonky, and he looked like he kept trying to resist the urge to smile or laugh.

Once the hat's choice was finally made, Yugi made his way over, smiling from ear to ear and jumping over the bench into the seat in between Ryou and one of the redheaded Weasleys.

"What took you so long?"

Yugi shrugged and looked over to the staff table, where Albus Dumbledore was saying quite literally a few words to start the feast.

/Hat-san, the other me and I were discussing the pros and cons of being courageous or being loyal. He couldn't decide at first, but we talked about it and decided that being loyal would also be staying with friends./

(You. . . did?)

/Mm-hm. Hat-san also said that if we were going to stay being friends with Marik-kun, that might end up courage enough to be in Gryffindor on its own./

Ryou laughed, just covering his mouth in time to protect the potatoes from a snort. Oh, yes. That was definitely Yugi, all right.

Wait, _potatoes_? They certainly hadn't been there before. He looked around the hall. It wasn't just him, then – unless, that is, everyone was playing a rather complicated and imaginative game of make believe, and for some reason he didn't think they were. He cast his eyes over the wares of the table that were closest to him, and his eyes widened. They even had cream puffs.

He turned to tell Yugi, and was met by a wistful look.

"I bet. . . I bet Jonouchi-kun would love some of this stuff," the younger boy said.

Ah. So that was the problem. Ryou, while he understood the situation perfectly well having been in it before, the very fact of having been in it so many times before had forced him to get used to leaving things and people behind. Yugi had not, luckily, learned that.

"I suppose," he said, trying his best to sound dubious even though the one out of the two of them who was the better actor was at the moment thoroughly annoyed at the bottom of his bag. "But wasn't he always eating junk food when he could? I can't see any of that sort of stuff here."

Or any hamburgers, which were Yugi's own favourite, but he wasn't going to say that.

"You're right," said Yugi forcefully. "He wouldn't enjoy it anyway." Knife, fork and spoon at the ready, he glanced at the people around them, who were all tucking in already. "_Itadakimasu_!"

He found, much to his delight, that the cream puffs tasted as good as they looked. He pointedly ignored the giggles, laughs and whispers coming from those around him. He doubted that they were aimed at his pastries, and there was always the hope that if you ignored them, they would go away and leave him and his friends in peace. It rarely worked, but it was the principle that mattered, he supposed morosely. At least the food was good.

---

Lying down in the middle of the quilts of his new four poster – _four poster!_ – bed in the dormitories, Yugi first curled up and then stretched out as far as he could. It was all so big, so soft, so different, but in a good way. Sure, it wasn't home, with the smell of coffee always there in the morning and Jii-chan and Kaa-san there just down the hall if they were needed. But home, even if there was more privacy to speak his thoughts aloud rather than always inside his head, which wasn't quite as private as it used to be, didn't have people as interesting as these right inside his own home, not counting the Pharaoh. Home didn't have four-poster beds.

Home had Anzu-chan, and Jonouchi-kun, and Honda-kun and Kaiba-kun. But just because they were there didn't mean that he couldn't meet new people too. And the _magic_ – of a kind that he would never have thought of existing outside of story books! It was all _amazing_.

Although he had started to think that it just might have been a bit easier if he had been able to pay attention in his English class back home. As it was, he was going to be getting a crash course, and tested every day.

He was lucky that Bakura-kun, with his infinitely superior knowledge of the language, was available twenty-four/seven to talk to and help him.

With a contented sigh, he relaxed into the pillows.

/Oyasuminasai, Bakura-kun, Marik-kun./

There was no answer, mental or not, from Marik – who had probably fallen asleep already – but from Bakura he received a loud-sounding and verbal "Shaddup."

Maybe not every hour of the night, then.

---

AN: First of all, a big thank you to anyone who's still sticking it out for the chapters of this thing. You all prompted me to continue, even when you didn't know you were doing it.

See? It's not dead, not yet. I have so much I still want to do with it. Though it is kinda embarrassing how the writing style changes dramatically near the end...


End file.
